Call Of Duty: Flip Side
by Deadbeatloser22
Summary: One soldier's journey behind the scenes of two wars. Contains strong language, violence and SPOILERS! ON HOLD until MW3 release.
1. Chapter 1

First, here's the legal stuff. It's pointless and has no real weight, but it's here anyway.

The closest I come to owning most of the characters is owning a copy of the relevant game(s). All non-original characters and locations are therefore the properties of their respective copyright holders. Since no-one actually reads this, it's unlikely that I'm going to get sued over it, but please don't anyway.

Second, content warning. This fic contains spoilers for both Call of Duty 4 and Modern Warfare 2, some strong language, self insertion and severe sad git moments.

Now that all that pretentious bollocks is out of the way...

Call of Duty: Flip-Side

Chapter One: Begin Again.

Private Jon "Sakura" Rose  
Charlie Team  
22nd SAS Regiment.  
Credenhill Barracks, Herefordshire, UK  
Day 1, 2011. 0500 hrs.

The buzzer was relentless, shaking Jon out of whatever level of sleep he was in. He reached over, whacked the clock by his bed to shut the alarm off and sat up, looking over at the clock as it sat on the table. 0500. He slid off the bunk, and rooted around on the floor, trying to find his physical training gear in the half-light, before banging his head on something, swearing, then reaching for the light switch on the wall, and grabbing his trousers and T-shirt off the end of his bed. The last items were his jumper, which was hanging off the back of the chair, and his trainers, which were by the door. The routine had been the same every day since he'd joined the Regiment a week ago. As a result, everyone in the team had finally stopped calling him the FNG, if only because he wasn't totally green anymore.

Truth be told though, he'd been lucky to get there at all. He'd enlisted in the army straight out of secondary school, and served a tour with The Rifles in Afghanistan. He'd applied for Selection at the first chance he got, but nearly got binned several times. He barely passed at the end of it all. And now here he was. He turned on the TV, which he kept set on BBC News, and listened as the reports talked of a worsening crisis in the Middle East, and the ongoing civil war in Russia._  
Nothing new there, then._  
Today, the team was up for weapons training, but that wasn't until 1100. Jon was off for a run round the base, both to wake himself up completely, and to kill time until the cafeteria opened for breakfast at six.

Jon walked from the barracks to the firing range in hangar two. He heard an engine sound, and looked up in time to see a Blackhawk fly over and touch down beyond the fence. On board was a team in black kit, gas masks and all, and looking beat-up and worn out. Jon recognised the leader, if only because he was a _bit_ distinctive. Captain John Price.

On the range, Jon was passed a rifle from the armoury. A Diemaco C8, with a red-dot scope, AN/PEQ-2 laser sight and M203 grenade launcher. Otherwise known as the L119A1 in British service.  
"All right Private. Take that to Station four and wait for the go."  
Jon checked the chamber was clear, then walked down the firing line to the fourth booth, before picking up the safety glasses from the bench, and taking the ear-defenders off a nail and putting them round his neck. He then picked up a magazine from the bench and slapped it into the well, before hitting the bolt catch with his thumb and flicking the selector from safe to semi-automatic.  
"All right gents. Most of you know the drill. For those of you that don't, hit the five targets as they pop. After that, the targets will be blocked by a plywood sheet, but will still pop up in the same order, so hit 'em again. Then the cluster of three at the back will pop at random to test your ability to snap shoot. OK? Stand to and wait for the first target." Captain Tom Williams, Charlie Team leader, was supervising.  
Jon pulled the ear-defenders up onto his head, and levelled his carbine down the range. The first target swung down, and he put a bullet into it. The targets then alternated between top and bottom, and Jon missed two of them, before the wood sheet swung up. He then followed the same pattern as he saw the upper target swing down again, with three missed. The sheet then dropped again, and the three targets at the back of the range popped up in a random order, falling as they were hit, and rising again. Two misses.  
"Cease Fire! Cease Fire! Clear and secure your weapons!"  
Jon pulled the magazine out and racked the charging handle to eject the unfired round still in the chamber, before flicking the safety back on and taking off the protective gear.

Back in his room at the barracks, Jon was listening to the news whilst laying on his bunk, reading a book.  
"A video apparently showing the assassination of President Yasir Al-Fulani by known revolutionary Khaled Al-Asad has been aired on a number of Middle-Eastern networks. As a result, the Pentagon announced it would be shifting forces in the Gulf to a heightened state of readiness..."  
Jon got up and switched off the TV, before sighing deeply. Outside, he heard a helicopter starting up, and went to the window in time to see Captain Price and his team boarding a Blackhawk for parts unknown. There was a knock at his door.  
"Hey Jon. Get your arse over to the briefing room. We're getting deployed."

In the briefing room, Captain Williams was giving a run-down of what exactly they were being deployed to do.  
"OK. The Yanks have drafted us to provide operational support to their operations in the Middle East, dealing primarily with the sabotage and demolition of enemy infrastructure. Out first target is an enemy radio tower close to the coastal city where the Marine Force is due to make landfall at 1300 local time tomorrow. So gear up and be ready to go. Wheels up in half an hour."

Less than an hour later, Jon was stood on the tarmac at RAF Mildenhall, ready to board the MC-130 that was due to drop them and their gear behind the lines. He was dressed in desert camo gear, like the rest of Charlie team, and watched as the pair of Land Rovers they would be using were loaded into the hold, before following the others aboard and watching as the ramp was slowly closed, and the engines whined into life...

A/N: OK, there it is. For those of you who don't possess an above average knowledge of guns (which would be most of you, sorry if that's patronising), the Diemaco C8 is the Canadian built version of the M4A1 carbine, and standard issue weapon to the real SAS. I just opted to assume that the M4A1 SOPMOD in the game was actually a C8, and only called that so everyone would understand. And that's the first of many bits of sad-gittery (is that even a word?).


	2. Chapter 2

First, here's the legal stuff. It's pointless and has no real weight, but it's here anyway.

The closest I come to owning most of the characters is owning a copy of the relevant game(s). All non-original characters and locations are therefore the properties of their respective copyright holders. Since no-one actually reads this, it's unlikely that I'm going to get sued over it, but please don't anyway.

Second, content warning. This fic contains spoilers for both Call of Duty 4 and Modern Warfare 2, some strong language, self insertion and severe sad git moments.

Now that all that pretentious bollocks is out of the way...

Call of Duty: Flip-Side

Chapter Two: Into The Frying Pan.

Private Jon "Sakura" Rose  
Charlie Team  
22nd SAS Regiment.  
Somewhere in the Middle East.  
Day 2, 2011. 0800 hrs local time.

The morning sun beat down upon the sand as Jon helped the rest of the team load up the Land Rovers for the mission. During transit their orders had changed, and they were now to also interdict an enemy supply convoy before it could reach the city and aid in the fortification effort after demolishing the radio tower, and as a result they'd been equipped with AT-4 rocket launchers during a refuel stop at Al Udeid Air Base in Qatar. He was wearing a pair of desert camo trousers and a brown t-shirt along with a tan plate carrier and baseball cap, with a pair of sunglasses to deal with the glare, and a tan-and-black shemagh and a pair of dust goggles round his neck for use if a sandstorm kicked up. His C8 was hanging on its sling under his arm, and he had a .45 USP holstered on his right thigh, along with a six inch knife on his belt. Both guns were silenced.

Eventually, the pair of trucks set off into the desert, bound for a radio tower close to the city limits. Blowing that up would severely hamper communications amongst the enemy forces and make it easier for the Marines when they landed in five hours time. Jon looked at the two men in the Land Rover with him. Sergeant Mark Davis, or "Tex" over the radio, was driving. He always seemed like the quiet one, opting instead to let his actions do the talking. Behind him, someone he knew well was manning the GPMG. Private Gary Sanderson. Everyone called him Roach. The two of them had been through Selection together, and now had the same posting as well. He was the squad's demolitions specialist, Jon was a scout.

After a while, the two Land Rovers were parked up on a ridge near the tower, with the sun to the rear. The six-man team was arranged on the edge, some stood, some crouching. Captain Williams had a pair of binoculars and was surveying the scene.  
"OK. Rooster, Jackson, you two stay here and provide sniper support if things go south. Tex, Roach, Sakura and myself will enter the compound and place the charges. If it goes well, we can be in and out without them ever realising we were there."_  
But no plan ever survives contact with the enemy._

Jon slotted a round into his 203 as the four of them approached the perimeter. Hopefully, he wouldn't need it. Captain Williams was a bit ahead, knife drawn. A guard was stood by a door smoking a cigarette. The captain grabbed hold of him, clamping a hand over his mouth and driving the knife into his chest, causing him to crumple without a sound.  
"Stack up."  
Everyone lined up at the door, weapons ready.  
"All right. Keep it quiet." Williams opened the door gently, poking his C8 through first.  
"Guard coming. Hide." Jon ducked behind a stack of crates as the guard passed.  
"Shit. He's going for the door!"  
But before Jon or anyone else could raise their rifle and take the shot, the guard opened the door, only to have his brains blown out.  
"_Tango down. You might want to do a better job hiding the bodies."_ It was Rooster.  
"I'll take that under advisement. Let's go."

Other than the two guards they'd encountered so far, the base was quiet. Certainly, no one was expecting it when one of the team came up behind them with a knife. Eventually, they were out in the open and rigging charges onto the tower itself. At least, until the first bullet pinged off one of the metal bars.  
"_Be advised, six hostiles converging on your position from the south."_  
The first enemy to come up the road was dropped fairly quickly by Tex, who put a bullet through his shoulder. Even if it didn't kill him, he'd probably never use that arm again. Roach took one down with a burst to the chest, and then the sniper team nailed another. Jon aimed the weapon up and pulled the front trigger, sending the 40mm grenade he'd loaded earlier arcing into the last three. He then slid the barrel forward and dropped the empty shell out, slipping a fresh one out of his pouch and into the launcher, slamming it shut.  
"Time to go, I think." Captain Williams had a knack for sarcasm. Rooster and Jackson met them with the Land Rovers at the bottom of the road leading up the hill to the tower. Williams turned to Roach.  
"Hit it."  
"It" was a Claymore clacker that served as the detonator for the charges. Roach squeezed it, and a large explosion ripped through the supports for the tower, bringing it crashing down.  
"Nice bang. Now where's that convoy?"

The intelligence they had was that the convoy would travel along a given road at a given time, same as it had every day for the past week. A UAV had confirmed the convoy was on the move, and was shadowing it so the team could ambush it. As it was, they were hiding behind a rock formation, with the Land Rovers covered with camo nets. Jon slid the sight cover off one of the AT4s, and made ready to fire.

They weren't waiting long.  
"_Charlie Six, this is Shortstop. Target is inbound, heading south-east along the highway. ETA is two minutes from your current position."_  
Sure enough, five trucks soon came over the horizon to the north-west.  
"All right. Prepare to fire."  
Jon depressed the red safety lever on the AT4, and settled his thumb on the fire button.  
"Wait until they enter the Kill zone..."  
The trucks kept going. The lead was almost alongside Jon.  
"FIRE!"  
Jon pushed the button, sending the 84mm HEAT rocket powering into the lead truck. It smashed into the panel on the side of the bed and detonated, pushing the back wheels off the road and making it spin round, blocking the road for the others. He saw the trails of the other rockets as the other members of the team fired. The last truck was filled with troops, who streamed out and started firing randomly.  
"OK. Tex, light 'em up."  
Tex pulled the net off one of the Land Rovers, climbed in and opened up with the GPMG. At the same time, the rest of the team burst out into the open and started to fire on the group. Mid way through a burst, Jon's carbine clicked uselessly despite still having rounds in._  
Crap. Jammed._  
Realising there wasn't time to clear it where he was, he let go of the currently useless rifle and drew his pistol with his left hand and fired, the .45 bullets making no more than a dull _phwip_ as they passed through the silencer, as he tried to work the bolt handle with his right, and failed. He ducked behind a burning truck, took the rifle in both hands and forced the handle back, the new round smacking into the lodged one and forcing it out of the chamber enough for him to dig it out with his knife. Not exactly standard procedure, but he didn't have time for that. With the stove-piped shell cleared from the breech, Jon opened up on the soldier who had tried to smash his face with the stock of his AK whilst he was trying to clear the jam.

"OK. Our orders are to head to the rally point at the coast here." Captain Williams pointed a spot on a map spread across the front of one of the Land Rovers.  
"Sir, get a load of this." Jon was crouched with a pair of binoculars, and watching something in the city. He passed them to the captain has he stood next to him.  
"Hmmm... Interesting. Right. Tex, get on the horn to command. We have a possible sighting of Al-Asad in the city. Give 'em the location. Maybe the Marines can snatch him and end this before it gets out of hand..."


	3. Chapter 3

First, here's the legal stuff. It's pointless and has no real weight, but it's here anyway.  
The closest I come to owning most of the characters is owning a copy of the relevant game(s). All non-original characters and locations are therefore the properties of their respective copyright holders. Since no-one actually reads this, it's unlikely that I'm going to get sued over it, but please don't anyway.

Second, content warning. This fic contains spoilers for both Call of Duty 4 and Modern Warfare 2, some strong language, self insertion and severe sad git moments.

Now that all that pretentious bollocks is out of the way...

Call of Duty: Flip-Side

Chapter Three: Incoming fire has the right of way .

Private Jon "Sakura" Rose  
Charlie Team  
22nd SAS Regiment.  
Somewhere in the Middle East.  
Day 3, 2011. 1730 hrs local time.

"OK. Our target for today is an enemy supply cache just beyond the capital city. Once again, our job is to get in, blow to top off and get out again."

After the Intel they'd gathered on Al-Asad being in the coastal city turned out to be a trap (he was never actually there, it was a body double), Charlie Team was placed back into their original operations support role. Now, they were powering through the desert to blow the lid off an enemy supply depot as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Elsewhere, the Marine task force was beginning to push into the capital city. It was the only place Al-Asad could hide.

For reasons no-one on the team could understand, they'd been lumped with a Marine Spec Ops Humvee taking point in their little convoy. The three vehicles moved along the desert road, and into a valley. Jon was on the GPMG, with Roach and Tex sat in front of him._  
Hmm... Good place for an ambush, if anyone knew we were going this way..._  
Someone was obviously listening, as that was the instant an RPG sailed off the ridge and into the side of the Humvee.

"AMBUSH! LEFT SIDE!"  
Jon swung the MG round in the pintle, aiming it at where the RPG had come from, and opening up in a hail of 7.62mm fire. He heard the engine growl as Tex slammed the accelerator, and had struggled to keep aiming at the same point as the truck sped past the burning wreck. A second rocket sailed past, impacting with the cliff face. Tracer fire zoomed back towards it, and at least one body tumbled off the ridge, bouncing off the rocks below.

The depot itself was located within a town. One of their first objectives was to blow the bridge nearby, denying its use to enemy armour hoping to get to the fight (or escape from it). Roach was hanging from one of the supports, wiring a satchel charge in place. Eventually, he swung himself out and back onto the road.  
"All right, get clear."  
The bang, when it came, was pretty big. Big enough to send the bridge tumbling into the river about ten meters below.

The town itself was incredibly quiet. A little too quiet. Then Jon found something that made his stomach flip over.  
"Shit. Get a load of this."  
There were dead civilians everywhere.  
"Looks like Al-Asad's men slaughtered everyone they came across. Keep an eye out for any survivors as we head to the depot."

Picking their way through the bodies, they came upon a group of survivors held at gunpoint by militiamen. The team crouched behind cover.  
"All right Raven, how are you at stealth kills?"  
"Well, we're about to find out." Jon dropped his C8 onto its sling, and drew his pistol and knife. The first guard was about five feet away, and had his back turned. Easy enough.  
But nothing's ever that easy.  
Sure, Jon was able to knife the first guard in the chest, but then one of the others looked round._  
Well, crap._  
He brought his pistol up and put a .45 round into the guard's arm before he could shoot back. On this cue, the other members of the team opened up on the rest of the guards. It was short, brutal and efficient.

The depot itself was toward the south side of the town. It was surrounded by a ring fence and a lot of razor wire. Unfortunately, there was also a number of machine gun emplacements dotted around the courtyard area.  
"Right. We need a distraction. Pop smoke!"  
Jon pulled a smoke grenade out of his vest and rolled it through the gate. The thick white cloud obscured vision for everyone, friend and foe alike. In fact, the only real effect was that all the machine gunners knew where to aim. So when they broke cover they'd be right in the line of fire.  
"Heads down, make a break for that stack of crates. All right, GO!"

Jon crouch-ran over to the stack of crates, and flipped off his safety catch. If he'd been thinking he'd have done that before. His launcher was still loaded, and he had a skewed shot at one of the gun emplacements. So he took it. The blast tossed the gunner over his weapon and onto the ground head first. Something snapped. Tex took advantage of this, and made a run for the next gun, tackling the shooter from behind and putting a bullet into his head. Captain Williams ran at the final gun-nest, which managed to get off a few shots before he got his carbine up and gunned down the operator. One of the bullets caught him in the arm, though, and the force was enough to knock him off balance briefly.

"Stack up, stand by to breach."  
The team lined up by the door leading into the main warehouse by the courtyard. Captain Williams kicked the door in, blood flowing slowly from his arm, and they flooded through, clearing each room with stun grenades and gunfire.  
"All clear!" Tex shouted.  
"OK. Roach, wire it up."  
"Sir, check this out." Jon had found something. It was a cargo manifest, similar to the one Bravo team had retrieved from the container ship a few days ago.  
"Crap." Williams pulled out his radio. "Shortstop, this is Charlie Six. We have a potential Code Black in the capital city. I repeat, we have a potential Code Black in the capital city."  
"_Copy Charlie Six. Please elaborate."_  
"We have retrieved intel that suggests a Russian nuclear warhead may be sited somewhere in the capital. Please advise."  
"_Understood Charlie Six. Fall back to extraction point Echo immediately. Command has been notified of the threat and NEST teams are being deployed."_  
"Copy that. Charlie Six out." He turned to the team. "All right. We need to get the hell out, now. Is the charge in place?"  
"Yes, sir." Roach gave his affirmative.  
"OK. Let's go." He ran for the exit, followed closely by everyone else.

As they powered away from the town, a flash came over the ridge behind them.  
"Shit. BRACE FOR SHOCKWAVE!"  
Then came the bang – a huge, all encompassing wave of sound that swept through the valley. Jon could see Tex fighting with the wheel, trying to keep the Land Rover driving straight. Behind them, he saw Captain William's truck get flipped over by the shockwave, and slide into the cliff face.

And then it passed. After the wave of noise, the silence was almost impossible. Tex brought the Land Rover to a stop, and the three of them jumped out and ran to the crash. The truck itself was a write-off, with almost every body panel beaten out of shape after rolling into the cliff. Rooster had been thrown from the pintle, and was trying to free Jackson. But the captain was nowhere to be seen, until he crawled out from under the rear, trailing one leg uselessly behind him. Jon and Roach sprinted over and hauled him up, helping him into the back of their truck. His voice was strained, from both the pain and the large amount of dust he'd inhaled as the truck rolled over.  
"We need to get to the extraction zone before the fallout hits."  
Tex nodded, and climbed back into the driver's seat, gunning the engine as Rooster and Jackson pulled up the tailgate, and sending the Land Rover speeding toward the designated extraction point.

It was only later that Jon found out the extent of what had happened. The intel they had gathered had turned out to be correct this time, unfortunately; There was a Russian nuke in the city, and someone set it off. 30,000 men had been killed, and many more injured to the point where they would wind up being medically discharged. Among them was Captain Thomas Williams, whose leg was badly damaged to the point where it was unlikely he'd walk again. What's more, thanks to an operation conducted in Azerbaijan by Captain Price and his team, they knew just who had supplied the warhead to Al-Asad: Imran Zakhaev, head of the Russian Ultranationalist party and instigator of the civil war.


	4. Chapter 4

First, here's the legal stuff. It's pointless and has no real weight, but it's here anyway.  
The closest I come to owning most of the characters is owning a copy of the relevant game(s). All non-original characters and locations are therefore the properties of their respective copyright holders. Since no-one actually reads this, it's unlikely that I'm going to get sued over it, but please don't anyway.

Second, content warning. This fic contains spoilers for both Call of Duty 4 and Modern Warfare 2, some strong language, self insertion and severe sad git moments.

Now that all that pretentious bollocks is out of the way...

Call of Duty: Flip-Side

Chapter Four: If it's worth fighting for...

Private Jon "Sakura" Rose  
Joint Operations Unit – Charlie Team  
22nd SAS Regiment.  
Southern Russia.  
Day 5, 2011. 0630 hrs local time.

The objective was simple. Capture Victor Zakhaev. With that in mind, Charlie team, or rather what was left of it, had been added to some Joint Ops unit with the Americans, and had been flown to Northern Azerbaijan to aid in the extraction of Captain Price's Bravo team. Whilst the Marines handled the extraction, the team had blown up a SAM site near the lakeside, clearing a potential LZ. Now, they were in Southern Russia, chasing a high-value target.

Jon stepped off the Blackhawk, and ran for the cover of a wreck stack. Like every other SAS operator there he was wearing a black jumper, DPM trousers and a tan MOLLE vest, along with a black watch cap pulled over his radio headset. Captain Price was talking with a Russian soldier, who was the one who'd supplied the intel for this grab. Eventually, they moved off toward the checkpoint.

Jon was crouched behind a burnt out car as one of Price's team climbed up onto a bin to snipe the watch-tower. Price was a few feet away.  
"Soap, take them out now."  
The rhythmic crack of a pair of sniper shots rung through the checkpoint area.  
"Go loud."  
Jon stood up and fired on the nearest target, dropping the guard as he ran for the building. Around him, the other members of the unit were firing on the other goons, and the sniper picked the guards off the roof. It was a pretty big fire-fight, but ultimately short.  
"Area secure." It was the Marine Staff Sergeant.  
"All right. Let's get this place sorted out. Change into the enemy uniforms and douse the fires. Kamarov, I need your men on the ground if the drivers start asking questions. Just keep them busy until we locate Zakhaev's son. We don't have much time, so get to it."

Two hours later, Jon was laying down on top of the garage forecourt by the checkpoint.  
"_Bravo Six, this is Vulture One-Six. We're tracking an enemy convoy headed your way. I count six vehicles in the convoy, over."_  
"_Roger that. Nobody fires a shot until I give the order."_  
Jon watched the convoy come round over the hill. Three trucks, two BMPs and a jeep.  
"_Wanker... Sir, I have a visual on the target in the third vehicle. I'm walking by it right now."_ Gaz, Captain Price's number two, walked past the jeep through the middle of the convoy.  
"_Copy that. All teams stand by. The target is in the jeep in front of the BMP. We need to take him alive, so watch your fire. Standby... Standby... Smoke 'em!"_

Jon shifted into a crouched position and put a bullet into the head of the third truck's driver. At the same time, other members of the squad, British, American and Russian, opened up from various concealed locations or from amongst the convoy. One of the Russians fired an RPG, which hit the BMP and blew it apart. In the chaos, the target took control of the jeep and attempted to escape, driving straight into the guard tower, bringing it crashing down. He then bailed from the vehicle and ran into the junk-yard they'd inserted into, shadowed by the Blackhawk. Two of the team chased after him as the rest of them tried to handle the reinforcements.  
"They're coming in from the south!" Jon fired a grenade into the third truck, blowing it apart. The soldier next to him set up his M249 and opened up on the new enemies, mainly to act as suppression. Jon ran back across the roof and jumped down, putting a burst into the tree line.  
"Come on! We have to catch Zakhaev!" Captain Price lead the the team through the checkpoint and out into a street where the fire-fight carried on. Jon tossed a frag grenade into the line of enemies shooting at them as the target fled, making them scatter and start firing again.  
"_The target is moving again. There's a side alley on the left that might let you cut him off."_  
"Soap, Griggs, Gaz! Go after him! We'll stay here and keep these bastards off your back!"

Jon watched the three of them break off and head down the alleyway, before launching another grenade at the enemy reinforcements coming down the road.  
"We need to head along here and cut off his escape!" Tex ran up the road, and around the corner. The Blackhawk was hovering off to his left, still shadowing the target. Up ahead was a partly ruined apartment building. Jon saw the three pinned down at one end of the car park, and machine gun fire coming from the upper floors.  
"_Vulture One-Six, we are taking heavy fire from a fortified position on the fifth floor."  
"Roger that, first one's free. Standby."_  
The door gunner on the Blackhawk opened up on the enemies on the balcony, destroying the gun-nest. Jon, Roach and Tex ran for the south western corner, as the sound of gunfire moved up through the building. There was little resistance, as the three that had gone through already had cleared everyone out.

"_I have a positive ID; Target is on the roof. He's all yours."_  
Jon, Roach, Tex and Price were all already on the Roof as Gaz and Soap came up. Zakhaev was holding a pistol.  
"Drop the bloody gun! Drop it!" Gaz shouted at him to stand down.  
"I can put one in his leg, sir!" Griggs, the Marine Staff Sergeant, offered to take him down.  
"No, we can't risk it. Hold your fire." Price held him back. "Soap, take his weapon and restrain him."  
However, as the SAS soldier walked up to him, he opted to simply blow his own brains out.  
"Shit. Kid's got some issues."  
"Baseplate, this is Bravo six. Zakhaev's son is dead. We're coming home." Price radioed in.  
"Bloody hell. His son was our only lead, sir." Gaz was annoyed.  
"Forget it. I know the man. He won't let this go unanswered. Let's go."

The Blackhawk touched down in the car park, and everyone climbed aboard. As far as most of them were concerned, it was a mission failure. The target was dead, and with it was any chance of finding the one responsible for the nuclear attack. But they reckoned without considering the strength of family, and how driven Zakhaev was towards revenge...


	5. Chapter 5

First, here's the legal stuff. It's pointless and has no real weight, but it's here anyway.

The closest I come to owning most of the characters is owning a copy of the relevant game(s). All non-original characters and locations are therefore the properties of their respective copyright holders. Since no-one actually reads this, it's unlikely that I'm going to get sued over it, but please don't anyway.

Second, content warning. This fic contains spoilers for both Call of Duty 4 and Modern Warfare 2, some strong language, self insertion and severe sad git moments.

Now that all that pretentious bollocks is out of the way...

Call of Duty: Flip-Side

Chapter Five: ...It's worth fighting dirty for.

Private Jon "Sakura" Rose  
Joint Operations Unit – Charlie Team  
22nd SAS Regiment.  
Altay Mountains, Russia.  
Day 6, 2011. 0620 hrs local time.

"It's quite simple: Either we retake the launch facility, or we won't recognize the world tomorrow."  
Jon was sat in the back of a C-130 Hercules as it powered over the mountains. The rear ramp opened slowly, and the light next to it turned orange, then green, accompanied by a buzzer.  
"Green light to HALO – Charlie Team, go!"  
Jon, Roach, Tex, Rooster and Jackson ran down the hold and off the ramp, into the night. It was a relatively low HALO drop, with a bail-out height of 8000 meters. Jon looked at his altimeter – deployment altitude was 2000 meters off the deck. When it clicked over, he pulled on the blue ripcord, deploying his chute and slowing the descent. He pulled one of the toggles, turning to the left and heading for their designated LZ. Above him, he could see another five parachutes opening – Price's team.

On the ground, he unstrapped his C8 from his chest and discarded his Free-Fall gear. Roach was a few feet away, checking his was loaded properly. Tex was sliding a belt into his SAW, and Jackson was adjusting the scope on his M21. Rooster, the former number two and impromptu team leader with Captain Williams being stood down, came out of the brush.  
"OK. We need to be in position at the Insertion point when Bravo Team blows the power lines. This way."

The team picked their way through the woods, heading for the perimeter. Eventually, they came to it, a razor-wire topped fence that buzzed audibly.  
"_Charlie Six, what's you status, over?" _Price radioed in.  
"Team Two in position at the perimeter, waiting on you to kill the power, over." Rooster checked in.  
Up above, there was a bang, and Jon could see one of the pylons collapsing.  
"_Charlie Six, the tower's down and the power's out. Twenty seconds."_  
"Roger, we're breaching the perimeter. Standby."  
Jon pulled out a pair of wire cutters and went to work on the fence, pulling open a hole.  
"_Backup power in ten seconds."_  
"Standby."  
"_Five seconds."_  
Rooster climbed through the hole.  
"OK, we're through. Bravo Six, we'll wait for you at the rally point. Out."  
"_Roger team two. We're on our way. Out."_

Then the alarm went off.

"We need to get away from here and head for the rally point at the facility gates. Sakura, you're on point. Move out." Rooster picked up his rifle and headed off. After a while, Jon spotted flash-lights moving through the forest. He knelt down and raised his fist.  
"Contact. Enemy foot patrol, two o'clock."  
"How many?" Rooster crouched next to him.  
"Five, maybe six."  
"All right. Go loud."

The patrol had been sent into the forest to investigate the breach in the perimeter. They certainly weren't expecting what happened next. If the point-man had been paying attention, he might have heard a quiet _pew _as a sniper in the trees took out the guy walking last. But he didn't. As a result he wasn't expecting it when a hail of machine-gun fire chattered out of the trees and tore his unit apart. The team came out of the trees, and surveyed the carnage.  
"Right. The Rally point's this way."

The sound of a fire fight was nearby as the team headed along the road. Eventually, they came out of the trees near to the gate. Captain Price and his team had met up with one of the sniper squads a bit further north. A siren could be heard some distance away._  
Well, that's not good._  
Jon's suspicions were confirmed when the sound of a rocket firing pierced the relative stillness, and a nuclear missile roared up into the sky.  
"Delta One X-Ray, we have a missile launch! I repeat, we have a missile..."Price's attempt to report the launched missile was cut off by another one lancing out of the ground.  
"There's another one!"  
"Delta One X-Ray - We have two missiles in the air, over!"  
"_Uh... Roger Bravo Six, our satellites are tracking them now. Get your team inside the facility and retake the launch control centre. We're working on getting the abort codes from the Russians at this time, out."_  
"Roger that."

The helicopter passed low over the group as they ran for the gate area, before one of the sniper teams brought it down with a stinger. Jon ran for the fence, as Captain Price and his team pushed through into an area filled with shipping crates.  
"_This is Sniper Team Two. You've got hostiles and light armour coming to you from the north. Suggest you get some C4 out there or find some heavy weapons, over."_  
"Pop smoke!"  
Jon tossed the white smoke cannister at the advancing BMP, as one of Price's men ran up to it and rigged a C4 charge, blowing the tank apart.  
"_Bravo Six, this is command. Give me a SITREP, over."_  
"We're inside the perimeter, approaching the gates to the silos! Out!"  
Jon put a few rounds into an enemy that had fired an RPG from the roof of one of the buildings, as the fire-fight moved toward the gates.  
"Cover me, I'm gonna blow the gate." It was Roach.  
In the background, something was being transmitted over the PA in Russian.  
"Charges set! Get back! Get back! Fire in the hole!" Roach detonated the charge, blowing the gate open.  
"Through the gate, let's go!"  
"More BMPs, take cover!"  
"Soap, Griggs, knock 'em out! Go!"  
Two Javelin missiles smashed into the BMPs, destroying them. Soap dropped down from the balcony he'd fired them from.  
"_Bravo six, this is strike team three inserting from the north-west. Repeat, we're movin' in from the north-west. Check your targets and confirm, over."_  
"Copy team three. We'll meet you at the north end of the tarmac by the vent shafts, out!"

By the time Jon made it to the vents, the others had cut through the covering grates and were preparing to rappel down the shafts. He grabbed a rope and hooked on, before dropping into the shaft. The steam rose up around them as they settled at the bottom and prepared to break into the facility. Up above, another Helicopter could be heard. If they were still on the surface, it would have annihilated them.


	6. Chapter 6

_First, here's the legal stuff. It's pointless and has no real weight, but it's here anyway.  
The closest I come to owning most of the characters is owning a copy of the relevant game(s). All non-original characters and locations are therefore the properties of their respective copyright holders. Since no-one actually reads this, it's unlikely that I'm going to get sued over it, but please don't anyway._

Second, content warning. This fic contains spoilers for both Call of Duty 4 and Modern Warfare 2, some strong language, self insertion and severe sad git moments.

Now that all that pretentious bollocks is out of the way...

Call of Duty: Flip-Side

Chapter Six: The crucial round is a dud.

Private Jon "Sakura" Rose  
Joint Operations Unit – Charlie Team  
22nd SAS Regiment.  
Altay Mountains, Russia.  
Day 6, 2011. 0730 hrs local time.

Jon lead the way into the vents. Their job was to secure the vehicle depot and thus an escape route. Meanwhile, Captain Price and his team were headed to launch control to detonate the missiles in flight, and Gaz and the Americans were headed to base security. Unfortunately, it was never going to be that easy.

The exit point appeared to be in the cafeteria. And it was busy.  
"Oh hell."  
Rooster's little bit of sarcasm got everyone's attention, forcing the team to dive for cover. Tex lobbed a grenade into the middle of the room, causing everyone else to run for the exit before it went off. Thankfully, it was only a flash, or they'd have had a harder time getting out. Roach pulled the door shut, and stuck a metal pipe through the handles. No one was getting out through there easily.  
"Right. The depot's about a half click to the north. This way."

The sounds of gunfire echoed through the facility, but the team didn't run into anyone as they moved to the vehicle depot._  
I guess they're all trying to protect the launch control or base security._  
Of course, he'd been wrong about things like that before. And this little bit of scepticism was proven right when a bullet sailed down the corridor to the left, hitting Jackson in the neck. He was dead before he hit the floor. Tex turned and returned fire, sending the shooter flailing to the ground. Then someone came over the PA, accompanied by a siren and a lot of flashing red lights.  
"What's he saying... What's happening?" Roach was starting to panic.  
"They've started a countdown; the rest of the missiles are gonna launch!"  
Sure enough, the siren stopped and was replaced by a rumbling as the missiles fired.

"_All teams, this is Command. Recommend you exfil from the area immediately. Large numbers of hostile forces are converging on your position. Get outta there now!"_  
The vehicle depot was essentially a hangar connected to the main facility. It was filled with jeeps and large trucks. There were a number of guards patrolling inside it. They'd linked up with Gaz and his team on the way over, after Price and his group succeeded in detonating all the launched missiles. Unfortunately, in getting into launch control they'd triggered the general alarm, and soon there was a fire-fight in the depot.  
"This is Gaz. We're taking some fire up here at the vehicle depot. Where the hell are you guys?"  
"_We're coming up the lift. Stand by."_  
Sure enough, about a minute later, Price, Soap and Griggs came out of the facility entrance, and began to clear out the enemies. The other two teams were pinned down at the back. Eventually, they managed to clear them all out.  
"All right, Get in the trucks! Let's go!"  
"You heard the man! Move!"  
Jon climbed into the driver's seat of one of the jeeps, firing up the engine and driving out of the hangar.

Once clear of the facility and onto the highway, their little convoy immediately came under attack.  
"_Baseplate, this is Bravo Six. What's the status of our helicopter, over?"_  
"_Bravo Six, the bird has been delayed. ETA fifteen minutes."_  
"_Not good enough Baseplate. We'll be dead in ten!"_

One of the trucks side-swiped the jeep, and Jon fought to keep it straight, as Tex opened up on the driver. The chase moved through a tunnel, and Jon could see they were being shadowed from the air as well by an Mi-24 "Hind". He could see Soap firing RPGs at it, but couldn't land a shot. Eventually, it broke off, only to attack and destroy the bridge up ahead. Jon barely managed to stop the jeep just short of where the bridge began to collapse, and he could see Price and Soap scrambling to get clear before it totally collapsed.  
"_Baseplate, this is Bravo Five! We are under heavy attack at the highway bridge at map grid 244352! Request helicopter gunship support! Over!"_  
"_Workin' on it Bravo Five. Loyalist forces in the area may be able to assist but we cannot confirm at this time. Baseplate out."_  
Tex set up his Minimi on the front of the jeep and began to lay down suppressing fire. Rooster had picked up Jackson's M21 back in the base, and was using it to snipe the Ultranationalists as they got off the trucks. But it wasn't looking good. They were too far away to be of any effective use.  
"_Bravo Team, this is Sergeant Kamarov. I understand you and your men could use some help."_  
"_It's bloody good to hear from you mate!"_  
"_Stand by, we are almost there. ETA three minutes. Kamarov out."_

Unfortunately, at that point the overturned fuel tanker on the bridge took one too many rounds, and exploded. Rooster was thrown back, sending the M21 off the edge of the bridge and injuring him quite badly. Tex, Roach and Jon managed to take cover behind the jeep, but even then the flash and noise of the explosion was enough to incapacitate, at least briefly. When the nuke had gone off, they'd been several miles away. Here, it was only a few yards.

Jon opened his eyes to see everything looked like it was underwater. There was gunfire coming from behind him, but he was having a hard time moving to see what it was. And then help came. A loyalist Mi-28 "Havoc" flew overhead, destroying the "Hind" and distracting the enemy. Jon hauled himself to his feet, but he'd lost his carbine in the confusion and could only watch what was unfolding.

Zakhaev was on the bridge. He and two guards had been executing the team members who had survived the explosion, until only Price and Soap were left alive. He saw Price slide something to Soap. A pistol. He saw Soap take it and put a round into the bodyguards' heads, before shooting Zakhaev in the groin as he turned round._  
Take that, you bastard._  
And then the transport helicopters arrived. One of them landed behind the team, and troops fast-roped out of two more over the destroyed section.  
"Well, our ride's here."

Later that day, Jon was in a room at a US Airbase in Germany. After he, Roach and Tex were cleared by the Russian medic, they'd been flown there and been put on medical leave, just to be sure. Rooster, though, had received some fairly severe injuries to his back. Whilst he was likely to walk again, his career was over. Jon had the news on again, just as he had when this had started.  
"The Russian government released a statement today, confirming a series of nuclear missile tests in central Russia. Although world leaders were quick to denounce the action, Russian officials maintained that the missile test fell well within established U.N. protocol. No comment was received from the Ultranationalist party, where rumours of a possible leadership struggle have just begun to surface... In other news, the search for a cargo ship lost in the Bering Strait due to a major storm has been called off..."  
He turned off the TV and walked to the window. It was late evening, and the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. For now at least, the world was safe again. But for how long? The sorry thing was that no-one would ever know what really happened that day, and about the people who died. Even then, what was one little wet-work after a good 30,000 people died in less than a minute just under a week ago?_  
Well, the needs of the many and all that..._


	7. Chapter 7

First, here's the legal stuff. It's pointless and has no real weight, but it's here anyway.

The closest I come to owning most of the characters is owning a copy of the relevant game(s). All non-original characters and locations are therefore the properties of their respective copyright holders. Since no-one actually reads this, it's unlikely that I'm going to get sued over it, but please don't anyway.

Second, content warning. This fic contains spoilers for both Call of Duty 4 and Modern Warfare 2, some strong language, self insertion and severe sad git moments.

Now that all that pretentious bollocks is out of the way...

Call of Duty: Flip-Side

Chapter Seven: Happiness is a belt fed weapon.

Five Years Later

Sergeant Jon "Sakura" Rose  
Task Force 141  
Fire Base Phoenix, Afghanistan.  
Day -1, 2016. 1130 hrs local time.

Jon was sat in the back of the Sea Knight, by the ramp, as it circled the base, waiting to land. Just being back in the country was giving him flashbacks to both his time here as a member of the regular army and as an SAS member before the Task Force was formed.

They were there to take out a militia leader with known links to terrorist groups, and would be using the Fire Base as a staging area. He looked round at the other operators in the chopper. Most of them had helmets and masks on, but even then some of them were distinctive. Like the man sat by the cockpit, who was wearing a balaclava with a skull emblazoned on it. Everyone knew him as Ghost. Sat across from him was a guy with a Mohawk. Captain "Soap" MacTavish, one of Captain Price's team from five years ago, and as far as any of them knew, the only survivor. Most of the rest was a mix of Americans, Canadians and Australians. Except for him, and the guy sat opposite. Even in the dim light of the cabin, his flame-red hair stuck out like a sore thumb, although he did have the sense to keep it covered when stealth was a requirement. It was Roach. Like everyone else, Jon was wearing a pair of desert-camo trousers (although the camo pattern varied, with some in Tri-Colour, some in MARPAT) and a grey hooded jacket, along with a khaki chest rig. His helmet was clipped to the outside of his backpack, though, and he was wearing a desert MARPAT bandanna tied over his dark brown hair.

Eventually, the helicopter touched down and the ramp lowered. Jon grabbed his bag from between his legs, slung it and his rifle over his shoulder, and got off. His weapon of choice was still now an FN SCAR-H, fitted with a tan EoTech 553 holosight, a quick-detach silencer and folding iron sights. Soap was stood at the front of the group, talking with a regular American soldier. He nodded in response to something, then turned to the group.  
"All right ladies, listen up. I know some you're still jet-lagged, but the base CO wants us to run through the CQB course, just to show these guys how the pros do it. So, Roach, Sakura, you're gonna run through it with me and Ghost. The rest of you, go find something to do. And stay out of trouble. The last thing I want to see is a repeat of what happened in Mexico."

The CQB course, known informally on the base as "The Pit", was, as its name implied, dug out of the ground compared to the rest of the base. It was a square loop, with a building on the opposite end to the entrance, a wrecked car on the return straight and a lot of barricades. It was intended to test both speed and target identification – there were civilian targets in there as well. On the table were a number of different weapons, ranging from pistols and rifles all the way up to shotguns. Not that they were going to use any of them.  
"All right. Roach, you're up first."  
Roach unslung his ACR, racked the bolt to make sure it was loaded, and then flicked off the safety. Jon heard his friend blasting through the targets, and came home with a final time of 32 seconds, accounting for the one civvie he'd hit with a penetrating shot.  
"Not bad, but watch what's behind what. OK, Sakura, your turn." Jon laid his rifle on the table, instead drawing his knife from the sheath on his belt and a Beretta M9 from the holster on his thigh. He held the pistol ready in his right hand, flicking the slide-mounted safety off with his thumb, with his left arm underneath to brace it and the knife in his left hand, before stepping through the gate and onto the range.

The first three targets popped up, and Jon dropped them, before moving on. The next set was a bit harder, with a civilian thrown into the mix. He put a round into each of the two combatant targets, and moved on. The third station had targets spread across two levels. He got the three on the ground easy enough, but his first shots at the two above missed. A second shot to each hit, and he reloaded as he entered the building, before dropping the three targets on the ground floor. At the top of the stairs one popped out at him, which he jabbed with his knife before it locked into place. He missed his first shot on the upper floor, but was able to make another quickly, dropping the target. The other two followed in quick succession. He then dropped down into the lower area again, and immediately put a round into the target off to his left by the burnt out car, followed by one to his right, taking care to avoid the civilians. He then moved round the barricades, taking out the last three targets, and ran to the finish. His time came back at 23.35 seconds.  
"Not bad, but could be better. Ghost, show 'em how it's done."  
"Got it." Ghost drew his pistol, a Colt 1911, and entered the range. The distinctive sound of a .45 echoed around the pit, and Jon was sure he counted fewer shots than there were hostile targets. Obviously, he was making use of bullet penetration to get multiple targets at once. His final time – 18.28 seconds.

Later that day, the eight man strike team left the base in the Sea Knight. Jon did one last weapon check as they began to descend, pulling the chinstrap for his helmet down just as the ramp dropped, and tugging his shemagh up to stop himself choking on the dust being kicked up. Normally, he wouldn't wear a helmet at all, preferring not to have his vision limited by it blocking his head motion, but this was a definite hot-zone, and he was in no mood to get sniped. Not that far away, a small village could be seen amidst the sand.  
"All right. This is a stealth op, so try to stay out of sight until we find the target."  
With this in mind, Jon drew his pistol and screwed the silencer onto it, before holstering it and repeating the action with his SCAR, screwing it over the flash-hider.

Within the Task Force, Jon was still a scout, which meant he was the point-man. As a result, he lead the way as the strike team moved towards the village. The place was unusually quiet. Every village like this Jon had been to before had at least had some activity. Something was definitely off, a suspicion that was confirmed when the first bullets hit the ground.

Jon flattened himself against a wall, popping out briefly to take a shot at where he thought the sniper was. He heard a scream, and someone hitting the floor, and guessed he'd hit. Unfortunately this little exchange brought militiamen streaming out of various buildings, and soon enough, there was a full blown fire-fight going on.  
"Sakura! Tango, two-o'clock high!" Rook shouted a warning, and Jon turned and put a round into the militiaman who'd tried to shoot him with an AK from the roof of one of the houses.  
"We need to find the target before he escapes!"  
"_Papa-Six, this is Kilo Six-Four. Target has been spotted aboard a medium truck and attempting to escape the combat zone."_  
"Roach! Get up on the roof and take out that truck!" Soap barked out an order, before throwing a militiaman over his shoulder and shooting him. Roach ran into one of the buildings, and climbed up onto the roof before unslinging the AT-4 he was carrying. Jon smashed one of the militiamen in the face, before hearing the tell-tale sound of the rocket firing, followed by a large explosion as it hit the truck.  
"_Target destroyed, nice shot."_

Up in space, something hit an American satellite, sending it careering out of orbit and straight for Russian territory...

A/N: Well, onto game two. For the record, I might have taken some liberties when coming up with Roach's appearance, but since I have plans for this it'll make some sort of sense soon...


	8. Chapter 8

First, here's the legal stuff. It's pointless and has no real weight, but it's here anyway.

The closest I come to owning most of the characters is owning a copy of the relevant game(s). All non-original characters and locations are therefore the properties of their respective copyright holders. Since no-one actually reads this, it's unlikely that I'm going to get sued over it, but please don't anyway.

Second, content warning. This fic contains spoilers for both Call of Duty 4 and Modern Warfare 2, some strong language, self insertion and severe sad git moments.

Now that all that pretentious bollocks is out of the way...

Call of Duty: Flip-Side

Chapter Eight: Tracers work both ways.

Sergeant Jon "Sakura" Rose  
Task Force 141  
Tian Shan Mountain Range, Kazakhstan  
Day 2, 2016. 0640 hrs local time.

The Russians had shot down one of the ACS satellites, and the Task Force had been sent to retrieve it, among other things. Whilst Soap and Roach handled the satellite itself, Jon, Ghost and another strike team were dealing with another target. They were assigned to destroy an ammo dump in an old mine, creating a distraction and allowing the pair to infiltrate successfully.

"Well, I'll say this. It's bloody freezing." Jon was crouched behind a snow bank overlooking a guard post. His uniform wasn't that different to the one he wore in the desert, the only difference was that his bandanna, chest rig and trousers were in ACU rather than desert MARPAT, and his jacket had a white disruptive pattern on it. He wasn't wearing a helmet this time either. He had also opted for a throat-mic rather than a ComTac headset like almost everyone else, for more or less the same reason he usually eschewed a helmet.  
"What was your first clue?" Ghost wasn't in the mood for the obvious, preferring to counter with sarcasm. Jon found this was pretty normal for him. He also noted that Ghost seemed familiar in some strange way, even though the pair hadn't met before Jon joined the 141. The fact he'd never seen Ghost without his mask didn't help matters.

There were only four of them on this op – Jon, Ghost, and a two-man sniper team (Archer and Toad). With Soap and Roach scaling the range toward an airbase where the Russians had stashed the satellite, and another two-man team doing intel gathering elsewhere, that made an eight-man strike unit. They'd been inserted by helicopter earlier that morning, and made their way to their separate targets.

"All right. The patrol's gone. Let's go." Ghost broke cover and ran for the mine building nearest to him. Jon looked round quickly to make sure it was clear, then followed.  
"There's a guard round the corner having a smoke. You wanna take him?"  
Jon didn't answer verbally, simply drawing his knife and allowing his SCAR to drop onto its sling. Ghost understood this action and stood aside. Jon then leapt out, grabbing the guard and clamping his hand over his mouth, before driving the knife into his chest and watching the guard's eyes roll back as he expired. The kill was almost silent, with only a slight gasp from the soldier and a hissing noise as he dropped his cigarette into the snow. He then wiped the blood off the knife and onto the guard's uniform, before sheathing it, picking up his rifle again.  
"Nice. You're getting the hang of this." Ghost's comment had a sting in the tail. He was almost certainly talking about that time in the Middle East five years ago when he'd knifed a guy in full view of another. Jon guessed Roach must have told him about it, as it wasn't likely to be on his record, and he was the only other member of the team who was in the Task Force. The other member of the team still in service, Tex, had finished his tour in the SAS and opted not to apply for selection again, returning to his old regiment instead.

The target was deep within the mine shaft itself, but to get to it they'd have to negotiate the surface complex. The first building was clear.  
"_Ghost, watch out. I've got another patrol on thermal, heading your way."_ Archer was providing over-watch for the pair.  
"Sakura, in here!" Ghost ducked inside the second building, his ACR raised in case there turned out to be guards inside as well. Jon got the door shut just as the patrol rounded the corner. They didn't seem to notice. Ghost then opened the next door, and found himself face to face with a group of guards who were watching a TV.  
"Ah. Wrong door." He quickly rolled a frag grenade through and slammed it shut, shielding the pair from the blast.  
"So much for stealth. I guess now would be a good time to go to plan B?"  
"Good idea." Ghost kicked the door open again, and put a burst into one of the guards who'd come to investigate the explosion. Jon saw another guard run towards the door, only to get slotted as soon as he got outside.  
"_Be advised, I'm displacing. You're gonna be without sniper support for one minute." _Archer was moving his sniper spot to give a better field of fire. Jon threw a guard to the floor as he came running towards him, putting a round straight into his chest. Another was dropped with a silent _pew_ and the sound of a bullet punching through the back of his skull, taking most of his brain with it, as Archer resumed giving fire-support.

The dump itself was deep within the mine. However, the guards had cut the power, leaving the shaft in total darkness. Jon dug his NVGs out of a vest pouch, and slipped them on. At once, his entire field of view turned a radioactive green, but at least he could see where he was going. That said, there's a difference between being able to see where you're going and knowing where you're going, and the pair found themselves backtracking several times without realising it. Eventually though, the shaft opened out into a decent sized chamber. The floor space was covered in racks which were loaded with massive quantities of ammunition and explosives; enough, Naval Intelligence reckoned, to fight a small war.  
"OK. Roach and the Captain should be almost at the base. Get the charges rigged. Command, this is Bravo-Five. Enemy supply cache has been located, and we're prepping to demo, over."  
Jon slipped off his backpack and unzipped it. Normally, this would contain various bits of gear, and for this op this included a pair of C4 demolition charges.  
"_Roger, Bravo-Five. Kilo Six-One will be on station for evac from LZ Charlie in five, over."_  
"Copy. Bravo-Five out."  
Jon wired the second detonator up, zipped his pack closed and slipped it on again.  
"Time to get the hell out, I think."

Something clicked from the tunnel entrance.

The first shot went wide, thudding into the floor a good ten feet from where Ghost was standing. He fired back, taking the shooter out of effective action with his first bullet, before finishing him off. Jon spun round and pegged another as he came rushing in.  
"The LZ's this way, we need to get moving. Archer, Toad, what's your status, over?"  
"_Already aboard. Get a move on though, you got hostile infantry closing on the mine entrance, over."_  
"All right. Kilo Six-One, be ready for immediate dust-off. Things are gonna get tight. Bravo-Five out."

The CH-46 flew low over the complex as the pair came sprinting out, occasionally blind-firing at their pursuers. Jon fished something out of his vest as the ramp raised and the chopper lifted off the deck. It was a clacker.  
"Hit it."  
Jon squeezed it, and an explosion ripped through the ammo cache, setting off the explosives that the Russians had stashed there, making the blast even larger and sending a column of fire lancing out of the entrance.

"_Kilo Six-One, the primary exfil point is compromised! We're en route to the backup LZ using enemy transport! Meet us there! Over!"_  
"Bravo Six, this is Kilo Six-One, roger that, out." The Sea-Knight turned and flew over the forest. Jon could see the burning wrecks over on the airbase, and a pair of Mi-24 helicopters chasing something. A red light flicked on in the cockpit.  
"Bravo Six, we're at bingo fuel. What's your status, over?"  
"_Kilo Six-One, we're taking heavy fire but we're almost there! Standby!"_  
The chopper flew over a ravine, and Jon could see a pair of snowmobiles being chased towards it. The chopper touched down and the ramp dropped.  
"Lock and load. Get ready to cover them."  
"Bravo Six we have you on visual. Get your ass on board! We're running on fumes here!"  
Jon stepped off the ramp and took up a covering position.  
"OK, they got the ACS. Let's get out of here!"

Sadly, this little operation was the starting block for something much, much worse...


	9. Chapter 9

First, here's the legal stuff. It's pointless and has no real weight, but it's here anyway.

The closest I come to owning most of the characters is owning a copy of the relevant game(s). All non-original characters and locations are therefore the properties of their respective copyright holders. Since no-one actually reads this, it's unlikely that I'm going to get sued over it, but please don't anyway.

Second, content warning. This fic contains spoilers for both Call of Duty 4 and Modern Warfare 2, some strong language, self insertion and severe sad git moments.

Now that all that pretentious bollocks is out of the way...

Call of Duty: Flip-Side

Chapter Nine: There is no such thing as a perfect plan .

Sergeant Jon "Sakura" Rose  
Task Force 141  
TF-141 HQ, MacDill AFB, Florida  
Day 3, 2016. 1430hrs local time.

"The Russians ain't gonna let this massacre go unanswered. It's gonna get bloody." Ghost noted angrily. A terrorist cell that the One-Four-One had a man undercover in had gone on a rampage at Moscow-Zakhaev Airport. Worse, their man inside had been killed in the operation, leading everyone to believe that the US government was behind it. There were five of them in the situation room – Soap, Ghost, Roach, Jon and Gen. Shepherd.  
"Too right, mate. Now, in the eyes of the world, they're the victims. No one's gonna say a word when the Russians club every American they can reach." Soap tried to be reasonable.  
"Makarov was one move ahead. Now he's left thousands of bodies at the feet of an American." Lieutenant-General Shepherd, the TF-141 Commanding Officer, laid the facts out straight. Vladimir Makarov was a known anarchist, and he was the one who had lead the attack.  
"We're the only one's who know it was Makarov's op. Our credibility died with Allen. We need proof."  
Shepherd picked up a remote from the table, and clicked it.  
"Follow the shell."  
An image taken from the airport CCTV appeared on the screen. The computer was able to somehow scan one of the discarded 7.62mm shell casings from the M240s that the Terrorists had used, and compile enough information to run a database search. It found a match, and threw a profile up on the screen.  
"Alejandro Rojas."  
"Never heard of him, sir."  
"You know him as Alex the Red. He supplied the assault."  
"One bullet to unleash the fury of a whole nation. Which means..."  
"He's our ticket to Makarov."

Rio De Janeiro  
Day 4, 2016 – 1508 hrs local time  
"_Ghost, the plates are a match."_  
"Copy. Any sign of Rojas' right hand man?"  
There were four of them in the car, a Mercedes 190 saloon that Jon was sure was older than he was. He was driving, Ghost was in the front passenger seat and there were two other operators in the back. They were all wearing what would almost be classed as civilian attire, apart from the plate carriers and the guns. Jon was wearing a grey T-shirt and blue jeans, with grey hiking boots. His bandanna was black, as was the plate carrier vest he was wearing, but the pouches on it were khaki.  
"_Negative. They've stopped twice already. No sign of him. Wait, they've stopped again. Standby."_  
Jon slammed the horn as another driver cut him up.  
"_Got a positive ID! Whoever these guys are, they're not happy to see him."_  
Jon heard gunshots over the radio.  
"_Ghost, we have a situation here!"_  
Jon put his foot down, revving the engine to the red-line as he heard more gunshots.  
"_Ghost, our driver's dead! We're on foot! Meet us at the Hotel Rio and cut him off if you can!"_  
"Roger, I'm on my way."  
One of the cars ahead exploded. At once, the four of them bailed from their car and ran towards it. A man carrying a large calibre handgun ran into an alleyway. Jon ID'd it quickly. A Desert Eagle. Most likely in .50 calibre. That on its own told him their target was no professional; no one with any sense would use a weapon like that in combat. Soap and Roach came running around the corner.  
"He went into the alley!"  
"Non-lethal takedowns only! We need him alive!"  
The six of them ran after the target, who was now heading towards the favela.  
"Roach- take the shot! Go for his leg!"  
Roach shouldered his ACR and fired, the round striking the target in the back of the knee, tearing the hamstring muscle and smashing the kneecap. He wasn't going to be running anywhere any time soon. Jon ran up to him, kicked away the Desert Eagle and bound his wrists with a pair of zip-cuffs, before hauling him up again.

Soap and Ghost propped the subject up in a chair.  
"Sakura, go see if you can find a battery in one of the wrecks."  
Jon left the alleyway, and found the police beginning to cordon off the scene. He went over to the nearest wrecked car, and disconnected the battery, hauling it out. When he got back to the storage locker, Ghost was unwinding a pair of jump-leads. He then connected the leads to the battery, and began sparking them to test the charge.  
"Roach, this is going to take some time. Go with Meat and Royce and check the favela for any sign of Rojas - that's where this guy was headed."  
"Let's go. Remember - there are civilians in the favela. Watch your fire out there."  
Soap hauled the locker door shut, and the other three walked off. Jon leant against the wall by the locker, and tried to ignore the sounds of screaming coming from inside. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from one of his pouches, and lit one. It wasn't going to do him any good, but he wasn't likely to live to see sixty anyway. He leant back against the wall and thought back to the first One-Four-One operation he went on.

Six Months Ago

"We're going deep, and we're going hard." Ghost was surprisingly calm, considering how the insertion had gone. His voice was muffled slightly by his respirator, but came through his throat-mic into everyone else's earpieces clear enough.  
"Surely you can't be serious?" Jon shifted slightly as one of the other team members cut a hole through the floor.  
"I'm serious…and don't call me Shirley." The panel dropped away, allowing the team access to the cabin. Jon slapped the charging handle on his MP5SD, sending it forward, before dropping through the hole. One of the hijackers came out of the lavatory up ahead.  
"Weapons free."  
Jon raised his MP5 and put a 9mm hole in the side of the target's head.  
"Tango down in section One Alpha."  
The team then began to move through the plane, clearing out the hijackers. Then something went wrong.

"We've got a hull breaach! Get doown! Get dooown!" Ghost shouted a warning as a stray shot thudded into one of the windows, smashing it. The subsequent pressure change tore a gaping hole in the side of the fuselage. Jon grabbed onto the closest seat as the aircraft began to list heavily to starboard. The advantage was that most of the hijackers on the lower deck were sucked out by the decompression.  
"Stairway clear."  
Ghost lead the way as the team moved onto the upper deck.  
"Watch your fire up here. We're looking for a civilian."  
On the upper deck, a set of double doors burst open. One of the hijackers had their target, and had a gun to his head.  
"Ya skazal nazad!" Jon knew enough Russian to know this was a warning to stay back. He drew his USP, and fired, clipping the terrorist on the side of his head, before moving up and carrying out an execution, putting a second bullet right between the terrorist's eyes. Then the case started to beep.  
"Shit. Someone's armed the bomb! We don't have much time. We've got to go – now."  
"Roger. Prepare to breach." Ghost turned the arm on the exit door, disengaging the locks. The pressure difference blew it out. He then grabbed hold of the target, threading a line through his belt.  
"We're goin' for a little freefall mate! On your feet!"  
The target protested something about not having a parachute, before Ghost jumped out the door, dragging the target with him. Jon rolled his eyes, then leapt out after them, followed by the rest of the team. Behind them, the bomb detonated, disintegrating the aircraft.

Present Day

Jon heard gunfire from inside the favela.  
"_Bravo Six, be advised - we've engaged enemy militia at the lower village. Roach! I'm with you! Watch the rooftops! Go!"_  
The fighting apparently went on for a while.  
"_Royce, gimme a sitrep, over!"_  
"_Lots of militia but no sign of Rojas over here, over! "_  
"_Copy that! Keep searching! Let me know if you see him! Out!"_  
Eventually, the screaming stopped and Soap hauled the door open again.  
"Roach - we've got Rojas' location! He's heading west along the upper levels of the favela. We'll keep him from doubling back on our side - keep going and cut him off at the top! There's no time for backup. You're gonna have to do this on your own. Good luck. Out."  
There were three of them now, with Roach working his way through the favela from the other side as they tried to pincer their target. Jon stepped round a corner, only to have to duck back in as a machine gunner nearly took his head off. He leaned round and threw a frag grenade through the window, blowing the gunner down into the street.  
"Roach - this is their territory and they know it well! Keep an eye open for ambush positions and check your corners!" Soap put a round into a militiaman with an RPG, which sailed off into the sky. Jon watched their target run into a building carrying something.  
"Roach, we're taking heavy fire from militia here but I'm still tracking Rojas! He's gone into a building! Ghost, you see him?"  
"Roger that, he's climbing onto a roof carrying a black duffel bag!"  
"Well that ought to slow him down! Roach, we're keeping him from doubling back! Keep moving to intercept! Go! Go!"  
Jon put another burst into a militiaman when his SCAR clicked empty. Rather than waste precious time reloading, he dropped it onto its sling and drew his Side-arm, in this case a Glock 17 with an OD frame, before resuming fire. Once the area ahead was clear, he dropped back behind a wall and reloaded his carbine, sliding the handgun back into his thigh holster.  
"Keep going! Rojas is still headed towards your side of the favela!" Soap was still directing Roach towards an intercept point.

"Roach! Don't let the militia pin you down for too long! Use your flashbangs on them!"  
Jon tossed a frag grenade through a window where one of the militiamen had set up an RPD. The blast propelled the hapless teen out onto the rooftop across the way, where he rolled off the other side. If the blast hadn't killed him, the fall would.  
"I've lost sight of him again! Ghost, talk to me!"  
"I'm onto him! He's trying to double back through the alleys below!"  
Jon vaulted a wall to drop down ahead of the target, who simply dodged to the right and headed back up again.  
"Roger that! Stay on him!"  
The chase lead into a market. The civilians had already scattered, but the sound of gunfire echoed through the stillness.  
"I've got a got a visual on Rojas! He's cutting through the market! "  
"Roger that! I'll head for the rooftops and try to cut him off on the right! He's gonna have no choice but to head west!"  
"Heads up- incoming, left side!" Jon barked out the warning, squeezing off a burst at the oncoming militia.  
"I'm taking a lot of fire from the militia, I don't think I can track him through the market! I'm gonna have to find another way around!" Jon saw Ghost double back.  
"Be advised, I'm about half a klick east of the market, I can see Rojas running across the rooftops on my right side!"  
"Roger that! Roach! We're still corralling him closer to your side of the hill! Keep an eye open for Rojas! He's making his way across the rooftops!" Jon watched Rojas break into a sprint across the roofs on his right. He'd discarded the bag by now, and was carrying an AK47 that had either been in it or that he'd snagged from a dead goon. The whole thing was slightly reminiscent of their pursuit of Zakhaev's son five years ago.  
"Sir, I've got Rojas in my sights! We can go for a clean leg shot! We can end it here!"  
"Negative! We can't risk it! Do not engage!"  
"Bollocks! Roger that!" Ghost was annoyed. Jon couldn't help agreeing with him. The chase was beginning to sap his stamina.  
"Roach! Keep moving uphill! I've cut him off! He's got nowhere to go but west over the rooftops in your area! Roach, he knows the area well but we can trap him here! Don't stop! Go! Go!"  
Jon smashed one guy in the face with the stock of his carbine, before shooting him. Progress was slowing down severely.  
"Roach! I've spotted Rojas, he's making a run for it! He's headed your way! And don't shoot him! We need him alive and unharmed!"  
The three of them linked back up, and continued to push through. It seemed like the higher up the favela they got, the tougher the resistance got as well.  
"Roach, we're going to cut him off at the summit, keep pushing him that way! Go! Go!"  
Jon noticed a bike parked by one of the buildings. The target ran for it, before suddenly swerving and doubling back.  
"Ghost he's going for that motorcycle! We've got eyes on Rojas - wait! Shite! he's headed back towards you!"  
Jon put a round into the door that Rojas was running towards, making him change course.  
"Nice! He's breaking to the right again! Roach, if you see him, do not shoot him! I need him unharmed!"  
The target seemed to vanish for a second, using the cover well.  
"Where is he, where is he?"  
"Got a visual! He's over there, sliding down the tin rooftops!"  
"I've got another clear leg shot!"  
"Negative! Not unless you wanna carry him back out with all this militia breathing down your neck! I need him unharmed!" Soap was right. Taking him down like that would effectively be suicide.  
"Ghost, I'm going far right!"  
"Roger that! He's gonna get away!"  
"No he's not."  
Ghost, Jon and Roach came out into an open area just as Soap tackled Rojas down on to a wrecked car, Side-arm drawn.  
"Frontrunner, this is Bravo Six. We've got the package. I repeat we have got the package." He radioed in. Ghost was calling for extraction behind.  
"Command, ready for dustoff. Send the chopper. Coordinates to fol- Bollocks! The skies are clear! Send the chopper now!" He released the talk switch on his radio. "Command's got their head up their arse. We're on our own."

Meanwhile, several thousand miles to the North-west, something was beginning to go very badly wrong indeed.


	10. Chapter 10

First, here's the legal stuff. It's pointless and has no real weight, but it's here anyway.

The closest I come to owning most of the characters is owning a copy of the relevant game(s). All non-original characters and locations are therefore the properties of their respective copyright holders. Since no-one actually reads this, it's unlikely that I'm going to get sued over it, but please don't anyway.

Second, content warning. This fic contains spoilers for both Call of Duty 4 and Modern Warfare 2, some strong language, self insertion and severe sad git moments.

Now that all that pretentious bollocks is out of the way...

Call of Duty: Flip-Side

Chapter Ten: LZ's are always hot.

Sergeant Jon "Sakura" Rose  
Task Force 141  
Favela Rocinha, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil (1700ft ASL)  
Day 4, 2016. 1615hrs local time.

"_We're sorry. All lines are busy at the moment. Please hang up and try again later."_  
Jon sighed and snapped his phone shut.  
"I can't get anyone on the horn." Ghost was cycling through the radio channels.  
"The Russians must've copied the ACS module. Got the key to every lock in America." Soap guessed what was going down.  
"And they're killing a thousand Americans for every dead civilian in Moscow. Looks like we're all out of friends."  
"I know a guy. Let's find a payphone. They still exist?"  
"All we got outta Rojas is that the only guy Makarov hates worse than Americans is locked up in a gulag." Ghost indicated the motionless body strung up a few feet away. The pose was almost symbolic.  
"It's all we got. If this con's the bait to catch that psychopath, let's hang him from a tree."

"Heads up, we've got incoming. Two-hundred militiamen, at the very least. They've got every route down the hill covered." Jon folded up the binoculars and stashed them in his vest.  
"Gotcha." Ghost dropped down off the roof. Jon followed. "Sir, the militia's closing in. Almost 200 of them, front and back."  
"We're gonna have to fight our way to the LZ. Let's go!"  
"What about Rojas?"  
"The streets'll take care of him."  
"Works for me."  
Soap hit his VOX switch.  
"Nikolai! We're at the top level of the favela surrounded by militia! Bring the chopper to the market, do you copy, over!"  
"_OK my friend, I am on the way!"_

The team moved up the hill to an open area just below a radio mast. A Tri-Star airliner thundered overhead.  
"Everyone get ready! Lock and load!"  
"Tangos at the ground level dead ahead! Let's do this!"  
"We've gotta get to the helicopter - head through the gate to the market! Move!"  
"Contact! Foot-mobiles on the rooftops, closing in from the south!"  
Jon flicked his carbine out of safe and into semi-auto, and began to lay down fire on the approaching enemies. His first shot caught one of the militiamen in the shoulder, and knocked him to the floor. Behind him, one of the other 141 operators took a round to the chest, sending a spray of crimson blood everywhere.  
"Man down!" Jon called, before he heard the distinct sound of a diesel pick-up truck engine.  
"Technical comin' in from the south!"  
The truck pulled up by the gate, and opened fire on them, the Browning M2 .50 calibre heavy machine gun sounding like the deadliest sewing machine you've ever heard, and forcing the team to take cover behind the low wall around the radio mast. Jon blind-threw a grenade in the general direction of the militia, propelling at least one over the top of the wall. Roach popped up and put a round from his UMP into the gunner on the truck, before dropping the driver as he tried to run.  
"Head through that gate! Keep pushing to the evac point!"

The team moved on, taking heavy fire from militia all the way. In one area, amongst a number of wrecked cars, Jon fired a grenade up to where a sniper had been trying to pin them down with an SVD, launching him out the window and down to earth with a sickening _crack_.  
"Let's go, let's go! We've gotta push through these streets to the market! Watch for flanking routes!" Soap led the team around the east side of the buildings, onto another road heading back uphill. Jon and Roach moved through a building to the team's left, clearing the potential over-watch.  
"Roach! Lay down some fire on the intersection!"  
Roach shouldered his UMP and opened up on the advancing militia, taking out a number of them by tossing a grenade under a pick-up truck and making it explode.  
"Come on, we're gonna get left behind!"  
The pair moved back out onto the street as the firefight reached a grassy area near the market, where another machine-gun emplacement tried to pin them down. Jon slid into cover as one of the team loaded a grenade and fired it right into the side of the truck, the HE warhead sliding it back a good three feet and nearly making it roll, making it explode instead.

"Squad! Spread out and cut through the market! Move! Tango coming out of the shack on the right!" Soap led the way through the smaller labyrinth of the market.  
"Heads up, tangos at three o'clock!" Jon called as the militia moved in on the right.  
"Contacts above us at 11 o'clock, firing blind!" Ghost opened up on the enemies on the rooftops to the left.

Slowly, the team fought their way through the marketplace, before a large helicopter thundered overhead.  
"There's Nikolai's Pave Low! Let's go!" The group pushed their way into a building, with a football pitch on their right. "Nikolai! ETA 20 seconds! Be ready for immediate dustoff!"  
"_That may not be fast enough! I see more militia closing in on the market!"_ Nikolai radioed in.  
"Pick up the pace! Let's go!" The team broke out onto the pitch just as the Pave Low came in to land, amongst a hail of gunfire and RPG rockets.  
"_It's too hot! We will not survive this landing!"_  
"Nikolai, wave off, wave off! We'll meet you at the secondary LZ instead! Go!"  
"_Very well, I will meet you there! Good luck!"_  
The helicopter banked away from the pitch and flew off over the rooftops.  
"Come on! We've got to get to the rooftops, this way! Let's go, let's go!"  
Jon climbed up on top of the bins and up onto the roof. The team began to run across the steel roofs, leaping over the gaps to try to escape the incoming militia.  
"_My friend, from up here, it looks like the whole village is trying to kill you!"_  
"Tell me something I don't know! Just get ready to pick us up!"  
The edge was coming up fast.  
"We're running out of rooftop!"  
"We can make it! Go go go!"  
They reached the edge and jumped across. Or at least, most of them did. Roach didn't quite make it, and began to slide off. Soap dived for him to try and catch him, but missed.  
"Dammit!" Jon almost jumped off after him. Ghost grabbed his arm.  
"Leave it, mate. I hate having to do this as much as you do, but you're no good to him dead."  
The chopper dropped down, and they climbed aboard. Soap watched as Roach began to come round, with the militia closing in.

"Roach! Roach! Wake up!"  
The militia closed in as Roach began to stand up.  
"Roach! We can see them from the chopper! They're coming for you, dozens of 'em! Roach! There's too many of them! Get the hell out of there and find a way to the rooftops! Move! Run for it! Get to the rooftops!"  
Jon saw Roach break into a run to get inside.  
"Roach, we're circling the area but I can't see you! You've got to get to the rooftops!"  
Eventually, he broke out into the open again.  
"There he is!"  
"Roach! I see you! Jump down to the rooftops and meet us south of your position! Go!"  
The fuel warning light flicked on in the cockpit.  
"Gas is very low! I must leave in thirty seconds!" Nikolai called out.  
"Roach! We're running on fumes here! You got thirty seconds! Run! Left! Turn left and jump down! Come on!" Soap dropped a rope ladder out of the side door.  
"Here he comes!"  
"Jump for it!"  
Roach leapt off the roof and caught the ladder. Soap turned to the cockpit.  
"Nikolai! We got him! Get us out of here!"  
"Where to, my friend?"  
"Just get us to the sub..."  
Jon could feel the engines powering up as the chopper banked away from the favela and out towards the coast.

A/N: Well, this was a short one. It was _supposed_ to go on the end of the last chapter, but I plain forgot about it until after I'd uploaded and published it. *facepalm*


	11. Chapter 11

First, here's the legal stuff. It's pointless and has no real weight, but it's here anyway.

The closest I come to owning most of the characters is owning a copy of the relevant game(s). All non-original characters and locations are therefore the properties of their respective copyright holders. Since no-one actually reads this, it's unlikely that I'm going to get sued over it, but please don't anyway.

Second, content warning. This fic contains spoilers for both Call of Duty 4 and Modern Warfare 2, some strong language, self insertion and severe sad git moments.

Now that all that pretentious bollocks is out of the way...

Call of Duty: Flip-Side

Chapter Eleven: There is always a way...

Sergeant Jon "Sakura" Rose  
Task Force 141  
USS Chicago, Pacific Ocean  
Day 5, 2016.

"Seems we're headed the wrong direction, Sir. Shouldn't we be coming back to the fight?" Soap seemed confused as the sub headed away from the US and off towards Eastern Russia.  
"Plenty of fight to go around, MacTavish. Glad you made it outta South America. You're meeting up with the 6th Fleet. Leadin' the counter-strike." General Shepherd was on hand to brief them via remote link. The screen showed a map, and zoomed in on part of the extreme eastern coast. "Prisoner Six-Two-Seven. We believe that's who Makarov's got the mad-on for. But we can't get to him."  
The screen then switched to a line of Oil platforms.  
"Oilrigs, sir?"  
"Russians are using them as SAM sites. Oil workers are human shields so we can't just blow up the rigs wholesale. And this one is the least defended. Boys, I know I'm sending you into the meat grinder in this one..."  
"They're defending it, so it means we want it. Especially if it gets us to Six-Two-Seven." Soap interrupted.

Jon tugged the zipper on his wetsuit up over his shoulder, before sliding a tan armour vest over the top. This wasn't his first sub-aquatic insertion; his second SAS tour had been with the Boat troop, rather than the Air troop he'd done his first in. He belted a pair of MultiCam trousers over the top of his suit, and then laced his boots up; he was wearing black combat boots rather than more conventional wet-suit boots. Finally, he tied a MultiCam bandanna round his head, slipped a black plate carrier with all his ammo and other gear on, and pulled a black cowl over his head, before grabbing his scuba gear and weapon for this op. An MP5K, with a silencer and red-dot sight. It was more appropriate for hostage rescue than the SCAR, since the chances of over-penetration were low, so he wasn't likely to shoot one of the hostages by accident.

"_U.S.S. Chicago Actual to drydock shelter, we have a go."_  
Jon could feel the water rising up around his ankles. It was, predictably, cold.  
"_SDV hangar flooded, full pressure."_  
"_Begin deployment."_  
The large door at the end of the dry-dock opened, and the small craft slipped out of it.  
"_Team One SDV is away."_  
The mini-sub moved through the water under the pack ice in almost total silence, save for the distant pinging of the main Submarine's sonar. There was a slight rumbling as another submarine approached.  
"_Hotel Six, bearing zero one-niner."_  
The second submarine released another SDV.  
"_U.S.S. Dallas deploying Team Two. RV at the objective."_  
The two SDVs began to surface slowly.  
"_Hotel Six, depth 20 meters."_  
The operators on the other SDV detached and headed for the surface.  
"_Team Two at the objective."_  
The SDV's pilot gave a signal, his hand clenched in a fist with his thumb raised. _Up._ On the cue, Jon released his hold on the right side of the vehicle and began to swim upward.

Jon watched as Roach swam towards the platform. There were two guards on top, just standing there.  
"_We'll take them out at the same time...on your go."_ Soap radioed in. The pair then stepped up, grabbed the two guards, and tossed them into the water. Jon climbed out, then grabbed Roach's wrist and helped haul him out, before discarding his fins, cowl and scuba gear, and drawing his MP5.  
"Two hostiles down in section One-Alpha. Moving up to section Two." Soap radioed in.  
"_Roger that, Hotel Six."_  
"Keep it tight people. Ready weapons. Move up."  
The team moved up the stairs and out into an area near the drill.  
"Got a visual by the railing." Ghost spotted the lone guard leaning on the railing.  
"Free to engage. Suppressed weapons only."  
Roach raised his M4 and shot the guard, making him fall over the railing and down to his death far below.  
"We're clear."  
"_Civilian hostages at your position, watch your fire."_  
"Roger that. Team One moving to breach."  
Jon and Ghost stacked up by one door, while Soap and Roach took the other. They placed the breaching charges, and the doors exploded inwards. The team then rushed through, taking out the guards before they could execute the hostages.  
"Clear."  
"We're clear. Hostages secured in section Two-Echo."  
"_Roger that Hotel Six, Team 2 will secure and evac, continue your search topside."_  
"OK, moving upstairs. Control - We're advancing to Deck Two."

The team moved out of the room and up the stairs as two of the SEALs secured the hostages for extraction from the dock downstairs.  
"Eyes open. Watch your sectors."  
"_Enemy helo patrolling the perimeter. Keep a low profile, Hotel Six."_  
Jon could hear the buzzing sound of a Little Bird doing laps around the platform.  
"Roger that."  
It came around the side just as they cleared the core building.  
"Enemy helo, get out of sight."  
Everyone ducked behind cover as it passed.  
"OK, move."

They came around the corner close to another doorway.  
"_Hotel Six, more hostages are at your position."_  
"Copy that. Stack up to breach."  
The team lined up by the doors again, and blew their way in, dropping the guards.  
"Clear."  
"Clear. Control - all Deck Two hostages secured."  
One of the guards' radios began to buzz, the control station trying to find out what happened.  
"Enemy radio...I think we're going to have company sir..."  
"Set up for Plan B. Get some C4 on those bodies, go."  
Jon pulled a C4 charge from one of his pouches and dropped it on the ground, rolling one of the dead bodies over to hide it. Two of the team cut the hostages free and rushed them down to the dock for extraction. He gave Ghost an OK signal.  
"C4 placed, sir."  
"Get to an elevated position. We'll ambush them when they discover the bodies."

The team took cover on a scaffold platform, and behind the boxes underneath it. The two who'd rushed the hostages down to the extraction point rejoined them. A patrol came through the gate.  
"_There's the patrol. Hold your fire until they're closer. Standby... Standby..."_  
There was a shout as they found the bodies.  
"_Plan B. Do it."_  
Jon hit his clacker, and the detonation of all the charges the team had planted in the room tore the guards inside apart. Jon unscrewed the silencer from his MP5, and slid it into one of his pouches.  
"Control, this is Hotel Six. Our cover is blown."  
"_Copy that, intel still indicates hostages and possible explosives on the top deck. Your team needs to secure that location before we can send in reinforcements to handle the SAM sites, over."_  
"Roger that. Will call for exfil in LZ Bravo. CentCom needs us to take the top deck ASAP so they can send in the Marines. Move."

Eventually, the team fought their way onto the third deck. Below, Jon could hear the sound of a pair of Zodiacs fleeing the rig.  
"_Hotel Six, hostages from the lower decks are being extracted by Team 2. Proceed to the top deck ASAP to secure the rest, over."_  
"Copy that, we're working on it. Out."  
Once they reached the deck, the fire-fight erupted again, with guards abseiling from the deck above.  
Jon tossed a grenade into one of the gas tanks, making it explode.  
"Attack heli 12 o'clock, find some cover!" Ghost called out.  
Jon ducked behind a stack of pipes as the chopper's guns spun up. Roach fired off a grenade that struck it in the engine intake, causing it to spin out of control and crash.  
"Nice shot, Roach."  
"The clock's ticking. We need to get topside and secure any remaining hostages before we call in the Marines."

The team moved around the perimeter, fighting all the way.  
"Split up. We can flank through these hallways."  
Soap and Roach went up the stairway, whilst Jon, Ghost and the rest of the team went around the outside, before getting pinned down by the Russians. However, That was the point that Roach and the captain broke through on the flank.  
"Let's go; those hostages aren't gonna rescue themselves."

On the top deck, Jon heard the distinctive sound of smoke grenades going off.  
"Smokescreen."  
"These guys have thermal optics. Stay clear of the smoke."  
Jon ducked behind a pipe stack in the smoke, putting a burst from his MP5 into a soldier as he tried to whack him with the stock of his rifle. Roach had switched his M4A1 for the SCAR-H he'd been carrying on his back the whole time, which was fitted with an AN/PVS-14 Thermal sight, and used it to take out the guards in the windows.  
"_Hotel Six, be advised, hostages have been confirmed at your location along with possible explosives, over."_  
"Copy that. All teams check your fire - we don't know what's behind these doors."  
Eventually, the smoke cleared.  
"Get a charge on the door. We'll hit the room from both sides."  
Jon planted another breaching charge after he and Ghost had lined up outside the door with some of the others. The charge shredded the door, and the team rushed in, with Soap, Roach and the rest coming in through the other door. The room was filled with barrels covered in explosives, and all the hostages were wired as well. Jon dropped one of the guards as he tried to stab him, as Ghost and the captain took out the others.  
"Clear."  
"Room clear. Control, all hostages have been secured. I repeat - all hostages secured. proceeding to LZ Bravo."  
The team left the control room as the reinforcements began to arrive.  
"_Good job, Hotel Six. Marine reinforcements are inserting now to dismantle the SAM sites. Get your team ready for phase two of the operation. Out."_  
Jon got to the helipad just as the first Little Bird left, carrying Roach, Soap and four others. The second one came into land, and Jon climbed on, grabbing one of the M14s in the rear of the cabin and slinging his MP5. He could hear chatter through his earpiece, with the SEAD F-15s en-route from Japan beginning to arrive on station, and the Marines began to take down the SAM sites on the rig.


	12. Chapter 12

First, here's the legal stuff. It's pointless and has no real weight, but it's here anyway.

The closest I come to owning most of the characters is owning a copy of the relevant game(s). All non-original characters and locations are therefore the properties of their respective copyright holders. Since no-one actually reads this, it's unlikely that I'm going to get sued over it, but please don't anyway.

Second, content warning. This fic contains spoilers for both Call of Duty 4 and Modern Warfare 2, some strong language, self insertion and severe sad git moments.

Now that all that pretentious bollocks is out of the way...

Call of Duty: Flip-Side

Chapter Twelve: ...and it usually doesn't work.

Sergeant Jon "Sakura" Rose  
Task Force 141  
40 miles east of Petropavlovsk, Russia  
Day 5, 2016.

"_Thirty Seconds."_  
The call in his left ear shook Jon out of whatever he'd been thinking. Off to one side, he could hear the sound of a pair of closing fighter jets.  
"_Hornet Two-One, this is Jester One-One, flight of two F-15s, four HARMs for the section. Standby for SEAD, over."_  
The two jets swooped in.  
"_Solid copy, Jester. Go get 'em."_  
"_Good tone. Good tone. Fox Three. Fox Three."_  
The missiles zoomed towards a SAM site on the coastline, and the two fighters peeled out.  
"_Good kill. Good kill. Hornet Two-One, you're clear all the way. Good luck."_  
"_Hornet Two-One copies."_  
"_Two-Two copies all."_  
"Two-Three, solid copy."

The helicopter formation dropped down low as it crossed the coastline, then pulled up as it reached the castle.  
"_Two going in hot."_  
"_Roger."_  
"_Guns guns guns. Guns guns guns."_  
The Little Bird opened fire on the control tower with it's miniguns, causing an explosion.  
"_Two-Two, Two-One. Good effect on target."_  
"_All snipers, this is MacTavish, standby to engage. Stabilize."_  
Jon raised his M14 and shouldered it.  
"_All snipers - clear to engage."_  
Jon took the first shot, putting a 7.62mm round straight into the skull of one of the guards._  
Pink Mist. Nice._  
The next shot slammed into the target's shoulder, spinning him off his feet and onto the floor. Across the way, one of the F-15s bombed one of the guard towers, almost knocking one of the helicopters out of the sky.  
"_Shepherd! Get those fighters to cease fire immediately! That was too close!"_ Soap called through the radio.  
"_I'll try to buy you some time. One man in a Gulag doesn't mean much to the Navy at this point."_ Shepherd didn't seem concerned._  
Strange._  
"Bloody Yanks! I thought they were the good guys!" Ghost was not impressed.  
"_Ghost, cut the chatter. Stay frosty."_  
The helicopter touched down in the courtyard, and Jon leapt off, leaving his M14 behind and drawing his MP5K again.

The team fought their way across the courtyard, before getting pinned down by one of the mobile SAM batteries.  
"_Two-One in position for gun run."_  
"Copy Two-One, lasing target on the second floor!"  
"_Two-One copies, got a tally on six tangos, inbound hot."_  
The barrage of fire from Hornet Two-One cleared the guards from the upper floor and enabled the team to get moving again.  
"The entrance is up ahead, keep moving!"  
After another brief fire-fight, the team made it into a tunnel.  
"This is it! We go in, grab Prisoner 627, and get out! Check your corners! Let's go!"  
The tunnel ended in a single room.  
"That's the control room up ahead! I can use it to find the prisoner! I'll tap into their system and look for the prisoner! It's gonna take some time!" Ghost called.  
"Got it. I'll cover you." Jon opted to stay behind.  
"Copy that! Roach, we're on cell duty! Follow me!"  
Soap, Roach and the others moved down into the cell block, which ran in a circle around the central pillar. Ghost was attempting to access the main computer system. Jon knelt down by the entrance in case anyone followed them in.  
"All right, I'm patched in. I'm tracking your progress on the security cameras."  
"_Copy that! Do you have the location of prisoner 627?"_  
"Negative, but I've got a searchlight tracking hostiles on your floor. That should make your job easier."  
The large searchlight clicked on, and tracked the movement across the first level.  
"_Roger that!" _The fire fight kept moving, until...  
"_Ghost, we've hit a security door, get it open!"_  
"Workin' on it...this hardware is ancient!"  
Jon took a pot-shot at one of the guards. The red light above one of the doors turned blue and buzzed, and the door slid open.  
"_Ghost, you opened the wrong door!"_  
"Roger, standby... Got it!"  
The other door opened in the same way.  
"_That's better, let's go!"_

"_Talk to me Ghost...these cells are deserted!"_  
"Got it! Prisoner 627's been transferred to the east wing! Head through the armory in the center - that's the fastest way there."  
"_Roger that! Squad, head for that armoury down there! Move!"_  
"Look out, they've got incoming." Jon pointed at the CCTV screen.  
"Bad news mate. I'm tracking three, no, four hostile squads converging on your position!"  
"_I can hear them coming...let's go! We're too exposed!"_  
Then a fire-fight broke out in the armoury.  
"_Ghost! Open the door!"_  
Ghost began to try to activate the door, then thumped the computer in frustration.  
"Bloody hell, they've locked it from the hard-line. I'll have to run a bypass."  
"Whatever you do, make it quick, there's more tangos incoming!"  
"_Too late! They're already here!"_  
"Be advised - you've got more tangos headed your way."  
The extra squads opened fire on the armoury.  
"_We're gonna need more cover - grab a riot shield!"_  
Jon could hear the sound of the bullets ricocheting off the riot shields.  
"_Open the door!"_  
"Almost there! Routing through the auxiliary circuit..."  
The door buzzed and slid open, and the team moved out and back into the cell block.

"Ghost here. Recommend you bypass the lower floors by rappelling out that window."  
"_Copy that! Roach, follow me!"_  
"_Captain MacTavish, last floor clear. We'll link up with you at the bottom." _One of the other 141 teams checked in.  
"I'm not seeing anything on the monitors where they need to go!"  
"The camera feed in solitary confinement is dead. The power must be down in that section."  
"_Roger that. Squad, switch to night vision."_  
After a while, a large bang rocked the whole building.  
"_Shepherd, what the hell was that? Get the navy to cease fire!"_  
"_The Navy isn't in a talking mood right now. Standby."  
What the hell? Didn't they get the timetable brief?_  
"_Bravo Six - they've agreed to stop firing for now. Keep going, I'll keep you posted. Out."_

"I've got them on screen again!"  
"The old shower room's about thirty feet ahead on your left. You'll have to breach the wall to get in."  
Jon watched as Roach planted the breaching charge, blasting a hole in the wall and sending one unlucky guard flying. The shower block was crawling with hostiles. Jon could see the fire coming from the upper floor, and a squad with riot shields approaching from directly ahead. Eventually, Soap, Roach and the other survivors dropped through a hole at the end.  
"_Ghost, we're in the old tunnel system heading south-south-west."_  
"OK. Keep going along that tunnel."  
"_Talk to me Ghost...I don't want to be down here when those ships start firing again."_  
Ghost punched up a thermal imager.  
"Keep going, you're almost there... I'm detecting two heat signatures - one of them should be Prisoner 627."  
Jon watched the team stack up, then blast through the wall, disappearing off the video feed. Then the explosions started again.  
"Come on! We need to get out, now!" Jon and Ghost ran back up the tunnel and out into the courtyard. The missiles and shells were beginning to rain down as the US Navy began to systematically destroy the compound. The Pave-Low was waiting in the courtyard.

"Bravo Six - be advised, they've started the bombardment early! Get the hell outta there now!"  
The chopper came around and lined up with a breach in the wall. Jon could see four figures running for it, before an explosion caved the tunnel in.  
"_Six-Four, where the hell are you, over?"_  
"Bravo Six, there's too much smoke, I can't see you; I can't see your location, over."  
Eventually, a single red signal flare fired up out of the smoke.  
"Bravo Six, I see your flare. SPIE rig on the way."  
Something dropped from the belly of the leviathan, and it climbed away sharply as the main bombardment hit the castle, obliterating it.

The Pave Low touched down aboard the _USS Carl Vinson_, which was anchored just off the coast, depositing the team on the SPIE rig first. Jon stepped off the ramp and got his first real look at who all the fuss had been about. His face had changed, but he was still recognisable that Jon snapped a salute at the man who was technically his superior officer, even after this long.

Captain John Price, Bravo Team leader during the civil war.

Price looked him over.  
"Hmm... You don't look like much."  
"I didn't back then, either." While it was true Jon had bulked up a bit in the intervening five years, he was still slightly built in comparison to everyone else.  
"Eh?"  
"Come on, you remember these two, don't you?" Soap spoke up, pointing out Jon and Roach. "Williams' team."  
"Oh yes."


	13. Chapter 13

First, here's the legal stuff. It's pointless and has no real weight, but it's here anyway.

The closest I come to owning most of the characters is owning a copy of the relevant game(s). All non-original characters and locations are therefore the properties of their respective copyright holders. Since no-one actually reads this, it's unlikely that I'm going to get sued over it, but please don't anyway.

Second, content warning. This fic contains spoilers for both Call of Duty 4 and Modern Warfare 2, some strong language, self insertion and severe sad git moments.

Now that all that pretentious bollocks is out of the way...

Call of Duty: Flip-Side

Chapter Thirteen: Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.

Sergeant Jon "Sakura" Rose  
Task Force 141  
USS Carl Vinson (CVN-70), Pacific Ocean  
Day 5, 2016.

"Uplink nearly complete." Soap was working on a console in the carrier's communications room. "General Shepherd, you're online with Captain Price."  
"Back from the brink, Captain."  
""Out of the frying pan" is more like it. This world looks more like hell than the one I just left." Price wasn't amused by what was happening elsewhere in the world.  
"We thought we'd recovered the ACS before the Russians could crack it. We were wrong. Then Makarov turned the U.S. into his scapegoat. Next thing you know there's flames everywhere. What's this image you're sending me?" Shepherd was confused. The computer was showing a schematic of a Russian Nuclear Ballistic Missile Submarine (SSBN).  
"You wanna put out an oil fire, Sir, you set off a bigger explosion right next to it. Sucks away the oxygen. Snuffs the flame."  
"Price, you've been locked away too long. Better get your mind right, son." Shepherd didn't seem to understand.  
"Shepherd, are you willing to what is necessary to win?"  
"Always."  
"We got ourselves a pretty big fire. Gonna need a huge bang."  
"You've been in the gulag too long, Price. Focus on taking out Makarov."  
"No time, sir. We need to end this war today."  
"I'm not asking you, Price. This is an order! You're to..."  
Price terminated the link.  
"Hmm... Looks like we lost our connection."

The team walked across the hangar to the Helicopter. They were wearing Arctic combat gear again, with the only distinctive ones among them being Price, Ghost, Jon and Roach; Soap wasn't with them this time, instead acting as the Mission Control. The Helicopter was a US Marine CH-53D, similar to the Air Force's Pave Low but without the nose radar, and able to fold its main rotor for carrier storage. The ramp closed, and the team ran a check of their parachute gear as the helicopter was pushed out onto the lift, and its engines started with a whine.

The helicopter powered over the ocean, before crossing the coastline. The crew-chief opened up the rear hatch.  
"Stand by to drop."  
Jon clipped onto the static line. The light turned green.  
"Go!"  
The team jumped from the chopper one at a time.

Jon landed in a crouched position, and brought his SCAR up before the parachute had stopped billowing. The silencer was in place, since stealth was key here. However, two of the team were missing.  
"_Price, I can barely see Roach's chute on my satellite feed. Too much interference. Do you see him, over?"_  
"_Roger that Soap, I've found Roach. He appears to be intact. We're gonna head north-west to the sub base, over."_  
"_Copy that. The rest of the team landed near Ghost, pretty far to the east."_  
"_Tell them to proceed with the mission, we'll regroup if possible."_  
"_Right... uh, you got that?"_  
"Crystal clear. Bravo five out." Ghost radioed in. "OK. We need to head for the RV point just outside the sub-base. Lock 'n' Load."  
Jon racked the charging handle on his SCAR as they moved off. He was on point, as usual.

"_Contact. Enemy patrol 30 meters to our front. Five men, automatic rifles, frag grenades. One German Shepherd."_  
"_Dogs. I hate dogs."_  
"_These Russian dogs are like pussycats compared to the ones in Pripyat."_ Pripyat was where Price had taken part in a "Wet-Work" mission back in the late '90s.  
"_It's good to have you back, old man."_  
"_Roger that."_  
Jon dropped to one knee and raised his fist, signalling the team to halt.  
"We've got a contact of our own to deal with. I count six flashlights, possibly more. I don't think we can take them without blowing our cover."  
"All right, we'll have to slip past. Which way are they headed?"  
"South east."  
"OK, stay low until they pass us." Ghost motioned to the team, and they all dropped into prone positions. Thankfully, the trees and other vegetation provided some cover, and the patrol passed the team without noticing them. They stood up, and moved off, before the radio squawked again.  
"_Soap, our intel was off. The Russians have mobile SAMs."_  
"_Roger that."_  
"_Have you found us some transport?"_  
"_I'm working on it. Out."_

Eventually, the team made it to the outskirts of a small village. They could see the submarine base on the other side of the hill.  
"_Soap, what's the status of our air support, over?"_  
"_A UAV loaded with AGMs is en route to your position."_  
"_Roger that."_  
"I can see what looks like a SAM site in the village." Jon called, just as two missiles streaked past each other; one from the SAM launcher, and the other from above. The air launched missile, an AGM-114 "Hellfire" launched from an MQ-1 "Predator" UAV, slammed into the SAM site just as the Russian missile hit the UAV and blew it apart.  
_"Bollocks!"_  
_"What just happened?"_  
_"There is a mobile SAM site in the village. It just shot down our Predator. Soap, we need another Predator."_  
Jon saw two specks slide down a ridge on the other side of the village.  
"Check your fire! Check your fire! Friendlies coming up at your 12!" Ghost radioed as they broke cover.  
"Good to see you're all in one piece."  
"Thanks, but we better hurry, those explosions are gonna attract a lot of attention."  
As if on cue, an RPG sailed over their heads and impacted on one of the houses.  
"Speak of the devil..." Jon threw a grenade, blowing one of the Russians out from behind a wall. Price had grabbed an AUG and began to lay down fire. Slowly, they fought their way through the village, towards the submarine base.  
"Soap, we've linked up with Ghost and the rest of the team." Price radioed in.  
"_Roger that. The second Predator is almost in position. Make it count, these things don't grow on trees."_

The team crouched down by a small fence near the base's perimeter.  
"There's the submarine! Right below that crane! Roach, soften up their defences with the Predator! Watch for the flashing strobes. That's us."  
Roach pulled out a control unit.  
"Got it. Firing missile."  
The Hellfire screamed out of the sky, straight into the side of the Mi-24 "Hind" that was sat on the base's helipad.  
"_That got their attention! The whole base is on alert! You better hurry. You've only got a couple minutes before that submarine dives."_  
"Copy that, we're moving."

Soap wasn't kidding. As soon as the Hind exploded warning sirens began to sound throughout the base, and the team was quickly pinned down in their ingress point.  
"Roach! Use the Predator! We've got to blast an opening!" Jon called over the gunfire.  
"Gotcha. Missile away!"  
This missile smashed into an enemy machine gun emplacement, killing the operator and scattering the soldiers around it. It was the opening they needed, at any rate.  
"_Multiple confirmed kills, nice shot."_  
"Keep moving! We need to get to the sub before it dives!"

Jon moved through the base, as close to taking point as it was possible in a running gun battle. Suddenly, one of the Russians tried to charge at him and smack him with the stock of his rifle. Jon simply ducked and tossed the guard over his shoulder, before stamping on his face and shooting him once in the chest.  
"_You're half way there. Keep moving!"_  
However, once the team reached a sub-station, they were quickly pinned down by fire from an enemy BTR.  
"Destroy that enemy armour!" Price called over the chatter of machine gun fire which ripped through the substation, taking out one of the team.  
"Man down!" Jon shouted. Another Hellfire missile streaked out of the sky, and something exploded on the other side of the concrete wall.  
"_Good effect on target. BTR destroyed."_

Eventually, they fought their way out onto the quayside.  
"I'm going for the sub! Cover me from that guardhouse by the west gate!" Price ran off towards the sub.  
"Roger that! We have to get to that guardhouse by the west gate to cover Price! Follow me!" Ghost led the team to the guardhouse, where they set up a defensive position. There were a large number of weapons on top of the building, including RPGs and sniper rifles.

"_All right, I'm inside the sub! Cover me, I need a few minutes!"_ Price radioed in.  
"Got it. Heads up, incoming! Two trucks to the east!" Ghost called. What was left of the team shifted fire, until Roach launched another Hellfire missile into the massing enemies.  
"I think I got it."  
"_Good effect on target. Multiple enemy vehicles KIA."_  
Jon put a burst into some of the survivors, before dropping the empty magazine from his SCAR and reloading.  
"More vehicles to the east! Use the UAV!" Ghost called again, as another pair of trucks drove up, only to be destroyed quickly.  
"Heads up, contacts to the north, on the dock by the sub!" Jon called, as the team shifted fire again. However, something was happening on the submarine itself.  
"Price, are you there? The silo doors are opening on the sub, I repeat, the silo doors are opening on the sub! Price, come in! They're opening the silo doors on the sub! Hurry! Price, do you copy? The silo doors are open, I repeat, the silo doors are open!" Ghost radioed in.  
"_Good."_

Then there was a sound Jon and Roach knew only too well; the sound of a ballistic missile firing. It lanced out of the sub and into the sky.  
"Wait, wait, Price, no! We have a nuclear missile launch. Missile in the air! Missile in the air! Code Black, Code Black!" Ghost franticly tried to send a warning.  
"We need to get out of here, now!" Roach was looking over the railing; more trucks were coming in. The team evacuated the guardhouse, and broke through the gate to the west. Price had vacated the sub and met up with them just past the perimeter.

The remains of the team headed back through the woods at a dead run. They'd lost three men to enemy fire in the sub-base. Maybe, if Jon had been paying attention to his surroundings, what happened next might have been prevented. Call it a lack of situational awareness, call it fate. As it was, he caught his foot on the root of a tree, and was sent tumbling down a bank.  
"Dammit."  
"You OK?" Roach called down.  
"I think so." Jon tried to stand up. Doing so sent a lance of pain up his left leg. "Shit."  
"We don't have time for this." Price shouted.  
"I don't care. What ever happened to not leaving people behind?" Roach slid down the bank. "Nothing broken?"  
"No, but I've definitely screwed my leg up."  
"Can you walk?"  
Jon took a tentative step.  
"Yes, but it hurts like hell. I won't be running for a while."  
"OK. Let's get moving."

Jon's injury slowed the team's progress, but eventually they made it to the extraction point, and boarded the helicopter. Once the ramp was shut, Ghost walked over and punched Price in the face.  
"What the hell were you thinking?"  
"I did what needs to be done."  
"And nuking the Americans was necessary how?"  
"You'll see."

* * *

Jon was sat on a bed in the carrier's sick-bay.  
"Well, Sergeant, I've got good news and bad news. The good news is that there's no permanent damage to your ankle; you just sprained it."  
"And the bad news?"  
"Even with no permanent damage there's still enough to keep you off active duty for at least the next few weeks."  
Jon sighed. Little did he know that that sprained ankle would save his life...

* * *

TF-141 HQ, MacDill AFB, Florida.  
Day 6, 2016.

"You're sure?"  
"Yup. Heard it myself."  
There was a discussion on something big going on when Jon limped into the rec-room.  
"Hey guys. What's up?"  
The two soldiers turned round. Corporal Thomas Heath, call-sign Freeshooter, and Lance Corporal Elliot Morton, call-sign Nocturne.  
"Rumour is that the strike team sent to the safehouse got wiped out."  
"What?"  
"Yeah. Makes me glad I didn't get picked for it."  
"And makes me wish you had."  
"Oh come on! Ease up, old man!"  
Tom turned round, knocked Elliot to the floor, stuck his foot into the small of his back and tried to wrench his arm from its socket.  
"Who you callin' old?"  
Jon simply sighed. Elliot had a way of annoying people, sometimes without even opening his mouth. He heard footsteps behind him, and turned to see who was coming.  
"All right, what are you lot up to this time?"  
It was Lieutenant Kirkland, the Task Force's third-in-command. Known to everyone else as "Werewolf".  
"Do you know anything about what happened to the safehouse team?"  
"I'm afraid not, Sergeant. We're still looking into the matter. For now though, we've been forced to write the whole team off as MIA until we know more."  
Jon sighed.  
"We're performing notification, but I thought there was one you'd like to do yourself."

* * *

Nottingham, England.  
Day 9, 2016.

From here, it was hard to tell that there was a war on. Maybe it was because the Russians were only interested in the Americans, but either way the air still smelled of peace.

Jon was sat in his car at the end of the road. He was about to do something he never thought he would have to do. He sighed, opened the door, and climbed out, wincing slightly. He was on medication for the pain, but that didn't remove it entirely. He pulled on his sand-coloured SAS beret (he was back in his British-issue camo uniform) and walked up the drive. He sighed, and knocked on the door. It was opened by a woman not that much taller than him, with greying red hair and soft brown eyes.  
"Mrs Sanderson?"  
"Yes?" It was obvious from the tone of voice of the woman who answered it that she suspected something was wrong. Maybe it was the fact a uniformed soldier had come to her door.  
"I'm afraid I've got some bad news about your son..."

A/N: Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? Some of you might get the reference I made up there, some of you won't. All I will say is that it means I'm getting recursive with them. :P


End file.
